Similarities and Differences
by weaponsmistress1010
Summary: "Today, I sent white roses over to St. Mungos addressed especially for Granger. Attached is a 'sincere' note of thanks." Malfoy smirked. "And do you know what I hear people say?" Blaise nodded with understanding. "They say it's like a fairy tale come true." It was the beauty of the unattainable. The delicious seduction of the forbidden. It would be the talk of the century.
1. Chapter 1

**Similarities and Differences**

**by: weaponsmistress1010**

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><p><strong>Plot:<strong>

Voldemort was dead. The war was finally over. All were rejoicing except maybe for the Malfoys. Lucius was in Azkabakan and the association of the Malfoys with the Dark Lord has ostracized them from society. There was only one way left to salvage the Malfoy family name. "You want me to marry a mudblood?"

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><p>Narcissa shifted in her seat uncomfortably. She smoothed a nonexistent crease on her white cocktail dress before giving her son a meaningful glance. Sensing his mother's anxiety, Draco reassured her with a polite nod before gently squeezing her hand in his. After fixing the green tie of his black suit, Draco cleared his throat to signal the start of the conversation. He shifted his attention to their guest, his family's financial advisor, and couldn't help but roll his eyes at the sight.<p>

He was sitting comfortably in a chair opposite the sofa Draco and Narcissa sat on. He was carefully taking out some papers from his golden attaché case and setting them neatly on the glass table. Draco couldn't help but notice he was having a hard time bending over due to the unbelievable size of his abdomen. His tailored brown business suit looked like it would be ripped apart if any sudden movements were made. He had a slightly strained expression on his face and also seemed to be catching his breath.

Draco gave the man a bored look. He wouldn't be surprised if he suddenly doubled over and died due to heart failure. Honestly. How long was it going to take him to stack a few papers on the table?

Letting out an impatient breath, he looked the man up and down. He hasn't changed a bit. He was still the same bald, short, fat and unbelievably pale man he'd known since he was old enough to know what money was. And frankly, if he wasn't mistaken, he knew the significance of money long before he even knew his given name. Ok. That was an exaggeration. But money _was_ the next thing he knew _after_ knowing his given name.

Clearing his throat once more, he watched as the corpulent adviser gave him a cheeky smile. "Patience, my boy. Why you haven't changed a bit! Still the cute, eager little rascal I used to bring home chocolate frogs to."

Draco's eye twitched. That was what he hated the most about the man. Since he's practically known Draco since birth, he always had an annoying habit to bring up his so called 'cherished moments' with him and would _always_ address Draco as 'his little rascal'.

Draco resisted the urge to snort as he gave the man a disgusted look. Zachary Levinson. Member of the Levinson pureblood family. Their family had served as financial advisors of the Malfoys for centuries. And since the war was over and Voldemort had lost, the Malfoys, too, seemed at a loss. The fear of the future of the Malfoy fortune and status was great; thus, there was a need for the consultation of a financial advisor, ergo, Levinson.

Seeing Levinson set aside his attaché case, Narcissa and Draco both let out silent breaths of relief. "Shall we get started?" Narcissa asked while performing an elegant swing of her hand.

"Of course! Of course!" Levinson replied as he righted his posture on the couch, the warm but slightly goofy smile never left his face.

"So…" Malfoy began as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Just how bad is it?"

Levinson let out a hearty laugh much to the irritation of the Malfoy heir. "Why, my little rascal, are you always so cynical?"

Draco's eye twitched again before glaring death towards the unexplainably jovial man. Letting out a slow but angry breath, he began talking slowly but threateningly. "Call me that again you repulsively robust idiot, and I swear-"

"Draco!" Narcissa reprimanded. "That is not, in any way, how you should talk to your uncle!"

Draco snorted in disdain but no longer made any further remarks. So what if he were his uncle? Nobody had the right to use petty nicknames on him and get away with it.

"Oh it's alright Narcissa! The little rascal has always been that way. That's part of his charm!" Levinson let out another roaring laugh. His nephew was just as spoiled and disrespectful as always.

Not wanting to waste anymore time on pointless chatter, Malfoy slammed his fist on the table, causing the glass to form small cracks around his fist. "Enough." He whispered, glaring at Levinson the entire time.

Narcissa jumped at the sound of the crack and glanced worriedly at her son but said nothing. Levinson whistled a single note as he glanced at the once flawless glass table that now bore an ugly scar. "Tsk. What a waste of such a beautiful table. This would have cost-"

"I. Don't. Care. How much it costs." Draco spoke silently but menacingly. "Just tell us what the bloody hell you're supposed to, then leave." His patience was running out. All he wanted to know was just how much damage control he needed to do in order to salvage his family's honor, or rather, what was left of it.

"Now, now…" Levinson said exasperatedly as he raised his hands in defeat. "I just haven't seen you for years my little-" He cleared his throat. "Draco. Sorry if I came off as offending. I guess I just missed you. You know I think of you as if you were my own." He paused as he gave Draco a look the heir could not comprehend.

Draco opened his mouth but before he could reply, Levinson had already picked up a bundle of papers and began to stay true to the real reason for his visit. "All of your assets remain unhampered as for now." He began as he scanned through them. "The ministry has been discussing whether or not they would strip your family of all its assets – property, money, status. If they come to the decision to do so, then needless to say, everything would be lost." Levinson paused to give both Draco and Narcissa a sympathetic look. "But of course, they have no right to do that based solely on the sentence passed on Lucius. That would be unlawful. That would go against all of your basic rights." Levinson paused for a moment to emphasize his next point. "But, the ministry is very powerful."

"Surely we can pull a few strings, right?" Narcissa voiced out with uncertainty. "The status of our family name…" Narcissa ceased when she noticed Levinson shaking his head.

"Control in the ministry has shifted. Majority of the authority and power no longer belong to purebloods." He paused as he noticed an elf prepare a few snacks on the table. "Various magical creatures and muggleborns have already entered the committee. Your past influence can no longer be availed of nor made use of. In fact, I would even go as far as saying it is a liability."

Draco scoffed, not being able to understand the idiocy of Levinson's statement. "A liability?" He spat out with annoyance. "Being a Malfoy? A lability? Are you saying-"

"Yes." Levinson said out flatly. Seeing the Malfoy heir abruptly stand up from his seat, Levinson raised an arm to stop him. "Hear me out boy. You won't like it, but I suggest you hear me out before doing me any harm."

"Draco…" Naricissa pleaded as she stood up and placed a hand on her son's shoulder. "Please come down, darling."

Letting out a shaky breath, Malfoy sat back down but left a threat hanging. "If you ever, do you hear me? Ever. Dishonor our family like that again, I will have your head. You hear me?"

Ignoring the threat, Levinson picked up two bundles of papers leaving the Malfoy heir seething. Levinson then gave one to each of his advisees. "Do you recognize those family names?"

Narcissa and Draco perused the thick collection of various family names throughout the Wizarding world.

"Some I do recognize, Zachary, but some I do not." Narcissa stated with confusion. "What is this list for?"

Draco and Narcissa watched as Levinson poured himself some tea. They waited some more for the old man had began to prepare himself a drink, adding milk, sugar, cream and every other condiment he deemed appropriate.

"Is food really all you care about?" Draco tactlessly voiced out.

"Draco!" Narcissa reprimanded once more.

Levinson could only chuckle. "When one feels agitated or distraught, one would naturally seek things which would bring comfort. In my case, it is food."

Draco narrowed his eyes at the subtle but meaningful statement. "What are you troubled about?"

"Ah Draco, my little rascal, always so sharp." Levinson replied with his usual silly smile. Ignoring the death glare sent to him by his nephew, Levinson began to drink his tea as he made a move to grab a chocolate truffle. "Those family names you see. All of them. They are part of a newly formed organization that aims to do one thing and one thing only." He paused to gobble the delicious gooey snack.

"Are you going to tell us or are we going to have to wait until you finish the entire thing?" Draco glanced from Levinson to the plate filled with expensive sweets.

"Draco, please." Narcissa whispered exasperatedly.

"Like I said my boy, I'm agitated and distraught." Levinson swallowed yet another piece from the plate of sweets. "I'm merely seeking comfort." He smiled again.

"Sure." Draco indifferently stated.

"Well, no use stalling the inevitable." Levinson said more to himself than to both his advisees. He took a deep breath before suddenly looking very serious. It made Draco _slightly_ want him to go back to the insufferable idiot he was. Note – slightly.

"All those families want one thing – a complete dissolution of the discrimination dividing the purebloods from those of the mud-" Levinson coughed, not wanting to use the derogatory term. "…Muggleborns. They seek equality for all. And not only among muggleborns and purebloods; but also among magical creatures as well. They call themselves…"

Draco blocked out the rest of what Levinson was saying. He felt like he just lost ten years of his life. What has the Wizarding world come to? An equality for all? Purebloods seeing mudbloods as equals? Not only that, wizards and witches being equal to _other_ magical beings? That was unheard of! How could a wizard such as himself, with his status and power, see mudbloods, lowly house elves, dim-witted mermaids/mermen, hippogriffs and what not as equals?

"Draco? Draco, honey?" Narcissa stood up and placed a hand on her son's shoulder anxiously. "Draco, darling? Can you hear me?"

Draco snapped out of his stupor only to see his mother and uncle looking at him with much concern.

"Do you feel light-headed, darling? Do you want to rest?"

"Are you alright, my boy?"

Draco shook his head to snap himself out of his reverie. "I… I'm fine."

"Are you sure darling?" Narcissa's words were filled with worry.

"Yes mother. I'm fine." Draco stated as he pulled at his green tie and unbuttoned the first two buttons of his suit. "I apologize, I didn't catch the end of what you were saying."

"It's alright my boy. I could only imagine how shocking it must have been for you to hear the news." Levinson paused to give Draco an apologetic smile, which he returned with an apathetic look. Clearing his throat, Levinson began once again. "Like I was saying, a movement for equality of all creatures within the Wizarding world has been made by an organization called the Order of the Phoenix. They say it was built to honor the memory of the legendary wizard Dumbledore himself."

Draco was unable to hide his surprise at the organization's chosen name. It had always been Dumbledore's idea to make the Wizarding world a world of equality and peace. A world judged not by the dogmas placed onto society by past centuries of erroneous judgments that inevitably led to irreparable damage to the present and possibly maybe the future society as well, if it not be stopped.

Draco's train of thought was cut short when he heard what Levinson had to say next.

"Your family is in the top list of those under probation by the Order of the Phoenix. If they see that you do not adhere to the new laws mandated in the movement towards equality, the order has the power to strip you of whatever they deem necessary. As long as they can prove it to the ministry, which I am sure they have great influence in, you have no chance against them."

"But…" Narcissa began but the words never came. She was just as shocked as Draco.

Seeing Narcissa's loss for words, Levinson decided to do all the talking. "I know what you're thinking. Why only the Malfoys? Why not go after _other_ pureblood families who have also served under the Dark Lord?" He paused to check if his assumption was right. He began once more when he realized it was what Narcissa had meant to ask. "Unfortunately, the Malfoys are the _epitome_ of a pureblood family. Not only is your family the _oldest_, _richest_ and most _influential_ pureblood family but you are also the most _famous_. Wealth begets influence which begets popularity and the cycle begins all over again. The Order, and probably the Ministry as well, would most likely believe that the best way to purge the old dogma of pureblood superiority over everything else would be to make a public spectacle of how they could break or rather _tame _the most influential pureblood family – the Malfoys. Do you understand?"

Draco could not believe what he was hearing. He wanted to shout, break something, anything! Heck even beat up his house elves if that was what it would take to get some steam out. How could everything have gone so terribly wrong?

Levinson watched his troubled nephew as he drank what remained of his tea. He let out a sigh. "I know it'll be hard. No. It'll be _very _hard from now own. Especially with the number of support the Order gets from the Wizarding world. But…" Levinson paused. "I… I think there may be a way…"

Draco and Narcissa looked hopeful at the sudden mention of a possible way to escape their family's impending doom. But hope turned into skepticism at image of the suddenly uncertain man. Levinson seemed to be battling himself about whether or not he should say something.

Raising an eyebrow in suspicion, Draco folded his arms in front of his chest, ready to force his uncle to spit out whatever he was holding back. "Just say it." He stated impatiently.

"If there is a way to make things better…" Narcissa began. Her eyes were pleading. "You would tell us, wouldn't you?"

Levinson let out a strained sigh. "I'm not sure if this would work. I just thought it might be worth a try. Though I'm quite sure you won't approve of it. It's quite petty as well actually-"

"Stop. Rambling." Draco demanded in a quiet but frustrated tone. "Whatever it is just tell us and we'll be the one's who'll decide if it's worth a bloody rat's ass or not."

"Draco!" Narcissa shouted a bit louder this time. "Stop using such demeaning language!"

Draco grunted as he whispered a silent apology.

Seeing no other reason to be apprehensive of his poorly thought out plan, he decided to share it. "Since the Order sees your family as a number one threat to the achievement of their goals, it would be natural that most, if not all, eyes would be on you. So I began to think…" Levinson stood up and paced the room. "Why not find an ally which could help convince the Order that your family is the opposite of what they assume it to be?"

Narcissa narrowed her eyes. "I'm not sure I follow, Zachary."

"What I'm referring to is a public display of your family's support for the Order." Levinson answered.

Draco scoffed in disbelief. "Did you just hear what you actually said? Do you actually think people would believe that the _Malfoys_ agree to the 'equality of all'?" He paused to glance at his mother, who in return avoided his gaze. "Are you actually saying we go out there and talk to the press about how we support all this shit? Attend stupid meetings about how _house elves_ should be set _free_ and how they should be seen as creatures with _rights_?" He paused a while to catch his breath. "Or worse! Actually lobby for the equality of purebloods _and_ mudbloods? You're crazier than I thought!"

Draco stood up in anger and headed towards the large glass window at the other end of the room. He gazed at the beautiful grounds of the Malfoy manor as he took a few breaths to calm himself down. Feeling his disdain lessen ever so slightly, Draco turned around to face his uncle.

"It's dim-witted and you know it is." He paused to emphasize his point. "Even if we _did_, in actually, support this equality crap, which we obviously do not…" He paused again to emphasize his stand on the issue. "No one and I mean _no one _would _ever_ believe it." Draco finished with a final tone.

Levinson looked at the disheveled and angry form of his nephew and let out a tired sigh. "I know."

Draco's anger spiked up even more. "Then why the hell are you suggesting it?"

"Draco, my boy. You didn't let me finish." Levinson replied as he made a clicking sound with his tongue. "I did say that your family _should_ show a public display of support for the Order; but I didn't mean it in the way you thought it would be." Levinson paused once more. Mirth was evident in his eyes and he was restraining himself from laughing out loud. "I'm seriously offended that you would think I would have advised something that second rate."

"Go. On. Then." Malfoy gritted his teeth. _"Bloody fucking asshole."_

"What I was referring to is a more indirect, slightly inconspicuous, but greatly effective way of showing to the public the Malfoys _are_ in favor of the Order's movement." Levinson finished. He seemed to look much more confident than before.

"And what may that be, Zachary?" Narcissa asked with both cynicism and hope in her voice.

"Participating in ridiculous gatherings by the Order, such as meetings regarding the rights of elves as Draco has stated…" Levinson paused to give Draco a teasing glance, which he returned with a look that could kill. "…Would be a move that is far too obvious and cheap. It basically tells the world that you are there to do one thing and one thing only – kiss ass." Levinson paused and grinned goofily once again.

Narcissa coughed at Levinson's choice of words but he simply chose to ignore her discomfort.

"And now, you might be thinking, what move would that be? What could possibly be the BEST option to take given this situation?" Levinson delayed his answer as he paced the room looking deep in thought.

"Just spit it out already!" Draco yelled exasperatedly.

Levinson grinned. He loved it when people couldn't stand the suspense he brought on them.

"Very well, my little rascal…"

Draco gritted his teeth at the return of his dreaded nickname.

"What I have in mind, is something that could make your lives better, more peaceful. But of course, it comes with a cost – a cost I'm not sure you're willing to make."

Levinson sat down and gestured towards Draco to do the same. Stomping his way back, Draco sat down forcefully and glared at his uncle. "If you don't say it now I swear to Merlin…"

"Before I tell you…" Levinson paused. Draco looked like he was out for murder but was ignored by the now slightly agitated man. "Answer this." He looked Draco and Narcissa each in the eyes. "Just what you are willing to gamble in order to get through this entire ordeal?"

Draco raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Be more specific."

Levinson sighed. His nephew was just too shrewd for his own good. "I meant to say, what are you willing to sacrifice in order to keep most of your wealth and status?

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Still too vague."

"Just answer it." Levinson demanded.

"It depends!" Draco answered defensively. "Sacrificing life would be out of the question. Just what part of our properties we're willing to lose would depend on what we gain. As for money, the answer is the same. Status would have to be left as untarnished as possible." Draco flailed his arms around as he emphasized each point. "Now stop with the pointless questions! What exactly is your plan? Or do you even have one to begin with?"

Levinson let out another sigh. "Those weren't pointless questions. I just wanted to know just how far you are willing to go." Glancing at Narcissa and Draco, he began unfolding his plan. "I think there is a way for you to retain all your wealth – property and fortune."

Narcissa clasped her hands in glee. "Oh is there really?"

Draco narrowed his eyes. "You said there was a price to pay. You're not being honest you corpulent fool."

"Draco!" Came Narcissa's warning tone for the umpteenth time.

"I _am _being honest my little rascal."

"Then what the hell are you saying-"

"I _said_... There is a way to retain _all_ your wealth – property _and_ fortune." Levinson gave Draco a meaningful look as if telling him to figure out the answers to the questions he wanted to ask.

Draco's eyes remained narrow as he glared at his uncle. After a few seconds, Levinson watched with satisfaction as his nephew's eyes showed realization.

"Status." Draco began. Levinson simply nodded.

"I believe I don't follow." Narcissa pointed out, slightly irritated.

"We get to keep our wealth. All of it. But our status would have to suffer." Draco stated in a low, slightly disbelieving tone.

"Correct again, my boy." Levinson nodded. "Now you want to ask what it is you have to do that would get you to keep your wealth but ruin your status?"

Draco didn't answer but his eyes never left his uncle.

"Think about it boy. What could you possibly do that is shrewdly subtle but would provide enough proof that you are, in a way, supporting the Order's ideals?"

Draco wracked his brain for an answer but he could not find any. Just as he was about to demand an answer, he saw his uncle fiddling with his own fingers. Taking a closer look, he saw that him caressing a ring on his finger.

"Do you know what this is boy?" Levinson asked. Happiness radiated around him as he showed his nephew his ring.

Draco narrowed his eyes and responded flatly. "A wedding ring."

"Correct again, my boy." Levinson replied as he gave the Malfoy heir another meaningful look.

"Marriage?" Draco replied flatly once more. He was so used to being coaxed into marriage by so many people that he was just tired of it. "What the hell has marriage got to do with any of this?" He paused to run his hands through his hair. "What? You want me to find another influential pureblood family and join forces with them to oppose the Order?"

"No. No. No, my boy. Haven't you listened to a word I said? You have to _show_ that you support the Order in a _subtle_ way. Marrying another influential pureblood would only pull you further into hell." Levinson stated as he made clicking sounds with his tongue.

"I already _am_ in hell, seeing as _you're_ here."

Narcissa let out a sigh. She was too tired of reprimanding the stubborn Malfoy heir.

Levinson laughed out loud at his nephew's words. For a 20-year old, he really could be half his age sometimes. "Putting that aside, marriage is correct. But marriage to a pureblood, is not."

Draco let out a bored sigh. "What the hell are you-"

Levinson smiled at the look of utter horror on his nephews face. "Do you understand now?"

"What is it, darling?" Narcissa asked as she glanced at her son's petrified expression.

"Don't tell me…" Draco began. His tone was incredulous and distressed.

Levinson's goofy smile never left his face.

"You want me to marry a mudblood?"

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><p>END of chapter one.<p>

Constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

Narcissa calmly took a sip of her green tea and couldn't help but scrunch her nose at the bitterness. Placing three drops of honey and a small cube of sugar, she began stirring her drink as she perused this day's mail.

Most were invitations to various celebrations regarding the defeat of He-who-must-not-be-named. Narcissa couldn't help but scoff. The joke was seriously getting old. It was infuriating at first, seeing that people actually found some sort of sick amusement at her family's expense. But now, its effect was reduced to merely being pathetic and not worth her time. She elegantly raised a hand to cover her mouth as she yawned but immediately froze at what she saw next.

A golden envelop.

There was no mistaking it. It was from by the Ministry. Glancing at the elegant scroll of her family name at the back of the envelope, she swallowed hard and headed to her room. Breakfast no longer seemed as inviting as it did earlier.

Dropping onto the nearest chair, she searched frantically for a letter opener. Slicing through the elegant seal, she took a breath and began to read.

Narcissa's mouth fell open as she shook her head in disbelief. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening! They had no right! They couldn't do this! She wouldn't let them do this!

Realizing that panic would be of no help, Narcissa took deep calming breaths as her mind wandered back to a memory of a conversation that happened not too long ago.

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><p>(FLASHBACK)<p>

Draco remained immobile for what seemed like the longest time. He was gazing at nothing in particular, too shocked to even comprehend what his uncle had just said. Blinking repeatedly to pull himself out of his trance-like state, Draco took notice of his mother's equally petrified expression before directing his gaze back to his uncle. "You…" He paused to point to Levinson. "Want me…" He paused again to gesture towards himself. "To marry a mudblood?"

Draco watched in mortification as his uncle jovially nodded his rounded head as if what he had just uttered was as simple as a comment on the weather.

Draco stood up as he shook his head in disbelief. "Now I'm sure you're officially loony." He was headed for the door. Getting angered over such a preposterous statement wasn't even worth it. Besides, he no longer had any patience left in him to endure more of his uncle's pointless banters.

"Now, now my boy. Leaving so soon?" Levinson stated in a sing-song manner. "You haven't even heard the entire plan. You wouldn't want to miss out on the best part now, would you?"

Placing a hand on the doorknob, Draco lazily looked back to his uncle. He was still wearing the same stupid smile that never seemed to falter. Oh how he itched to wipe that ridiculous grin off his face. "I no longer have the time or patience for this." Draco sighed.

Just as Draco was about to leave, Narcissa's plea made him stop.

"Draco, darling…" She began. "I agree with you that what your uncle just said is as every bit ludicrous as it is…" She paused. Hesitation was suddenly etched on her beautiful face. "However, perhaps we should hear him out first."

Draco couldn't believe what he just heard his mother ask of him. His mouth fell open and he was at a loss for words.

"See?" Levinson happily stated as he gestured a hand towards Narcissa. "Your mother is wise enough to hear out the entire plan before deciding whether it's worth a 'bloody rat's ass' or not." Levinson grinned at the glare he received from his nephew due to the mockery.

"Mother!" Draco whined as he slammed the door shut. "Please tell me you seriously do not agree with this… this…" Draco searched for the appropriate word. "This idiocy?"

"Draco, darling…" Narcissa's pleading tone continued. "I did not say I agree with it. I merely think we should hear your uncle out. We never know if it could actually…" Narcissa stopped herself from saying any further.

"If it could actually what, mother?" Draco spat out bitterly. "If it could actually work?"

Draco watched in disbelief as his mother avoided his eyes. He couldn't believe it. His own mother, one of the people who instilled in him the ideals of pureblood superiority, a Malfoy, was actually _considering_ that he marry a mudblood?

Draco's shoulders slumped in defeat. He was rooted on the spot unable to look away from the guilty form of his mother. "I can't deal with anymore of this nonsense." Draco whispered tiredly. Disappointment was evident in his voice.

After everything he and his family had fought for. After everything they've done to live up to their clan's principles – the pureblood supremacy. After everything they believed in. Everything _he _believed in. Now his mother, his own flesh and blood, was actually contemplating on sullying their blood in exchange for wealth? What good was any of their riches if they no longer had the status they were so proud of? What good were their mountains of galleons if they no longer had the prestige that always came together with their name?

"At least hear me out." Levinson whispered in a soothing manner as he gazed at his nephew's worn out form. "There's nothing wrong with listening to what I have to say. In the end, the decision is all yours. I'm just an adviser. Not the decision maker. Whether you take my advice is your choice. I just want you to know all the available options so that you can make a sound decision." He paused to glance at Narcissa then at Draco. "We're family. And I would never wish any harm upon you."

Levinson watched as his nephew slowly slumped back to a chair. His eyes seemed distant but Levinson took the gesture as a willingness to listen.

Clearing his throat, Levinson began to elaborate his plan. "Like I said, we need a subtle, clever gesture that inconspicuously equates to your support of the Order. And I'm afraid to say that marriage to a Muggleborn would have to be the best choice." Levinson paused before outlining the advantages of his advice. "Joining the Order, participating in their gatherings or even publicly pledging allegiance would result to even more suspicion. They would perceive the gesture as a mere act to try and get on their good side or even a cover for some sinister plot or coup whatsoever." Levinson waved his hand in a dismissing manner. "Not to mention you would become the laughing stock of the entire Wizarding society for having stooped down so low. So that is definitely out of the question."

Standing up, Levinson began to pace the room once more like a professor would during class lectures. "Simply remaining in status quo or nonchalant about the entire movement would result to your slow but _inevitable_ demise. If you continue living the life you are used to and continue to publicly flaunt your ideals of pureblood supremacy, the Order will most certainly do everything in its power to strip you of everything you're so proud of – wealth, status, influence." He paused to give Narcissa and Draco a pointed look to stress the importance of the matter. "Everything." He knew for a fact that that was the decision they were most likely to make and he wanted to make it clear that that decision was one of the worst they could possibly choose.

"How about simply _remaining_ indifferent but not publicly _flaunting_, as you so eloquently put, our ideals of pureblood supremacy?" Draco stated sardonically.

"My boy… Haven't you listened to a word I said?" Levinson paused as he folded his arms in front of his chest. "That decision will lead to your slow but _inevitable_demise."

"And how, oh wise one, is that so?" Draco continued his mockery.

"Remaining indifferent will cause the Order to _believe_ you continue to live by the Dark Lord's influence despite his eradication. And although they have no proof of that matter, they will simply operate on the principle 'guilty unless proven otherwise." Levinson paused to take a seat. Standing was such a troublesome and tiring task. "They will find a way – a loophole, an accidental slip – anything that could get them to prove you Malfoys are a barrier towards the attainment of peace and equality. Like I said earlier, you are the epitome of a pureblood family. The Order most likely believes that your subjugation would be an enormous step towards purging prejudice and discrimination in the Wizarding society."

"Well bloody fucking great." Draco replied monotonously. "They might as well just lock us up in Azkaban."

"Draco…" Narcissa shook her head at her son's undignified words before turning her attention back to Levinson. "So the decision you deem best for us is to have my son marry a muggle?"

"Yes." Levinson nodded. "It is the best decision you can take in order to appease the Order."

Draco let out a long, irritated sigh. "How is _that _different from joining the Order or publicly supporting any of its propagandas? You said so yourself earlier, they would just perceive the gesture as a mere act to try and get on their good side or as a cover for a stupid sinister plot or coup or whatever. So how would an absurd marriage to a _filthy_ mudblood change their perception of us?"

"Another good point, my boy. A very, very good point." Levinson grinned widely at his nephew's astuteness. "Marrying _any _insignificant muggle would only result to further suspicion. Not to mention it would once again be viewed as a pathetic attempt at kissing ass." Levinson paused to chuckle to himself.

Draco gritted his teeth. "Then why the bloody _hell_ are you suggesting it?"

"Let me finish, my boy. You never let me finish." Levinson replied in between giggles. "The idea of you marrying a muggle is not something that merely came off from the top of my head. Before I came here, I was well aware of your problems and have spent countless sleepless nights trying to figure out the most beneficial solution to them." He paused to grab his golden attaché case once more.

"I'm not sure I believe that." Draco muttered at he gave his uncle's robust form another glimpse.

Narcissa furrowed her eyebrows in curiosity as she watched Levinson pull out a black folder before settling it to his side.

Draco's interest perked up a bit. "What the hell's in that folder?"

"A possible key to the resolution of your problems with the Order." Levinson replied cheerfully as he set aside his attaché case.

Raising an eyebrow skeptically Draco gave the folder a glance before looking his uncle square in the eyes, waiting for further explanation.

"I've done some research about all possible muggleborn females you can wed." Levinson paused. Uncertainty crossed his features. "You are into females, right?"

Narcissa's mouth fell open at the comment and glanced anxiously at her son. He looked like he was just about ready to 'Avada Kedavra' Levinson's ass to hell. Clearing her throat, Narcissa decided to answer in her son's stead, seeing as he wasn't in the proper condition to do so. "I-I assure you Zachary, my son is as _masculine_ as it gets." She chose her words with care.

"I see! Then we have no problem. No problem at all!" Levinson chirped happily as if he hadn't just questioned his nephew's sexual orientation.

"In this folder, I have the profile of the most ideal conquest for you, my boy." Levinson seemed to be perking up more and more as each second passed. "Not only will marrying this muggle ease the Order's doubt, it will also add a _different_ kind of honor to your already prestigious family history."

Hearing this, Draco felt his anger slowly dissipate and his curiosity get the better of him. Who the hell was this muggle female that a _Malfoy_ would actually be honored to wed?

Handing Draco the folder, Levinson gestured for him to open it.

With hesitation, Draco slowly flipped the folder open, throwing glances at his uncle every now and then. Narcissa strained her neck to get a glimpse of the contents but Draco's forearm was blocking her view.

Levinson watched his nephew and apprehensively waited for a reaction. He expected him to shout and tear the folder into bits, probably curse him and then throw him out of the house. Surprisingly, his nephew did no such thing.

Draco slowly closed the folder and allowed his hand to linger over it for a second longer before placing it on the glass table. His eyes were cover by shiny locks of blonde hair so Levinson found it difficult to discern his nephew's reaction.

Trying hard to swallow his anger and murderous intent, Draco raised his head up and glared death at his uncle. He wished, for once, that looks could kill.

"_That_ mudblood?" He began in a low but menacing voice. His words were laced with so much hatred. "You want _me_, Draco Malfoy, to marry that_ filthy,_ _little _mudblood?"

Levinson let out a sigh. He expected retaliation alright but he'd never seen his nephew so livid his entire life. Convincing him otherwise would definitely be difficult, if not impossible.

Narcissa picked up the folder and perused its contents. Levinson noted the slight surprise in her features but traces of resentment were nonexistent. "Ms. Granger?" She voiced out as she glanced at Levinson with a perfectly arched eyebrow before scanning the file once again. Levinson furrowed his eyebrows in curiosity at the hidden interest interlaced in Narcissa's statement.

Clearing his throat, Levinson directed his attention back to his nephew who seemed to be ready to throw a tantrum any moment now.

"I'm well aware of your, ah, history with Ms. Granger." Levinson began but was immediately cut off by his seething nephew.

"If you've indeed done your research…" Draco paused. His breathing was becoming erratic. "Then you'd know that I'd sooner shack up with a hippogriff than marry that bloody bucktooth beaver!"

Levinson couldn't help but laugh at his nephew's choice of words. He was aware that his nephew and the female member of the Golden Trio weren't in good terms with each other but what he hadn't known was the fact that his nephew's disdain for the woman ran so deep. He smiled. "There's a very thin line between love and hate, my boy."

"Sod off!" Draco replied defensively. "As if anyone could ever love that repulsive woman enough to marry her! I'd sooner be imprisoned in Azkaban than be tied to her for life! Heck I'd sooner choose death over a lifetime with her!"

This earned Draco another roaring laugh from his uncle. "Now, now Draco… Careful with your words. You might live to regret them."

"Like hell I would!" Draco yelled defiantly.

"Think about it." Levinson began as he held out his fingers to count the advantages of a Malfoy-Granger marriage. "She's a member of the Golden Trio. A part of the Order. The smartest witch Hogwarts has _ever_ known-"

"That's an exaggeration!" Draco counteracted. "As if that filthy mudblood would _ever_ be bestowed that honor!"

Ignoring his nephew's protests, Levinson continued his count. "She has a great influence on the Ministry, seeing as her friends, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter, are now official Aurors, who, by the way, are also part of the Order." He paused to give his nephew a meaningful look. "She's also currently one of the best healers at St. Mungo's. Rumor has it that in a year or less she'll probably be bestowed the position of head healer."

Putting both hands on the glass table, Levinson leaned towards his nephew and looked him in the eyes. "Face it, my boy. She's as good a choice as it gets. I did my research. No other muggleborn can surpass what she's done and what she probably will achieve."

Draco gritted his teeth. He could not believe what was happening. Even after Hogwarts that stupid bucktooth mudblood still haunted him. He hated the way his uncle viewed her as a premium choice for an esteemed wizard such as himself. He was a Malfoy damn it! A Malfoy! Malfoys do not marry mudbloods, especially insufferable ones like her.

"You sound quite convinced she's perfect." Draco stated contemptuously.

"I am. Yes." Levinson nodded as he leaned back on the couch. "She's the best choice."

"Alright." Draco began as he lifted his chin up slightly and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Then let me tell you something. Something not even your foolhardy research can tell you."

Levinson raised a curious eyebrow as he watched his nephew draw in a deep breath.

"Granger is an intolerable know-it-all who thinks she's better than everybody else! She's snobby, supercilious and judgmental. She thinks she's doing the world some good by poking her noise into other people's business even when she's not needed! She loves kissing various professors' ass the same way she loves burying her ugly mudblood face in a book so she can flaunt about her knowledge about whatever crap she's read about. Don't even get me started on her stupid friends, 'Saint' Potter and that Weasel! Her hair is worse than a lion's mane and even needs to use magic to make herself look close to human! She's a waste of space, an abomination! The Wizarding world would have been better off without her and-"

Draco was cut off in the middle of his rant by his uncle's loud, gleeful laughs. Glancing at her mother to rant further, he saw that she had her hand up to her lips and was fighting a smile.

"Mother!" He whined.

Raising her hands in mock defeat, Narcissa let out light giggle. "I'm sorry, darling. It's just that I haven't seen you rant like that since you were eight. When you were whining about how I wouldn't make you eat too much sweets and you were trying to convince me otherwise?"

Draco scoffed at the embarrassing childhood memory. "But this is different!"

Glancing at his uncle's still laughing form; Draco slapped his hands on his thighs in irritation. "This is different and you know it!"

Wiping the tears from his eyes, Levinson smiled at his nephew. If everything that he said about Ms. Granger was true, then they would definitely be a perfect match. Levinson actually thought that his nephew was initially describing his own self.

"Those aside…" Levinson began, glee dancing in his eyes. "Her, ah, flaws, as you so descriptively put them, are outweighed by her gains."

Draco opened his mouth to retaliate but immediately closed it. There was no need to prove a point. He knew in his heart he was right. He wouldn't waste his energy trying to drill his ideas about Granger into his uncle's demented mind. He knew better. His uncle wouldn't be easily swayed.

Raising his hands up in a manner that usually said defeat, Draco stood up and left the room. Levinson and Narcissa made no move to stop him.

With Draco gone, Levinson shifted his gaze towards Narcissa. Sensing the look, Narcissa directed her attention from the door to Levinson. "Is something the matter?"

"You've been quiet the whole time about your stand on the issue."

Narcissa took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "I'm well aware of the Malfoy family tradition." She stood up to head towards the side of the room to view the Malfoy manor's exquisite garden. "It is imperative that the bloodline be made pure. There's just no going against that law." She hesitated for a while before voicing out her concern further. Turning around, she caught Levinson's steady gaze. "But times have changed. Would keeping the family tradition be worth losing everything else?" She looked at Levinson waiting for an answer but he said nothing. "Would losing all we have be worth keeping our blood pure?"

Levinson let out a tired sigh. "I believe I'm not in any position to answer that, my dear." He glanced at the silver band on his finger. "I'm married to a pureblood. So are my children."

Narcissa turned back to the garden. "I don't know what to do Zachary." Her voice trembled after every word. "If only Lucius were here, he would have made that decision himself."

Standing up, Levinson joined Narcissa by the window and gazed in awe at the beauty of the scenery. "Do you know what he would have decided on?" He asked as he met Narcissa's gaze once more.

Looking at her own wedding ring, Narcissa tilted her head in contemplation. "I think I know what choice he might have made." She paused to glance at Levinson. "But I'm not sure I want to make the same decision."

Levinson nodded in understanding but said nothing.

"The only thing I want more than anything else is to ensure my son's future. I don't want him ending up being underprivileged. I want him and his family to have a life of luxury and… and happiness." She paused. Levinson's expression softened at Narcissa's words. He knew how much Narcissa loved Draco. He knew she would have given her life up in a heartbeat just so her son could live another day. It was pitiful to see a woman such as herself suffer because of loving someone so much – be it her son or her husband.

"I love him very much Zachary. And I only want what's best for him." Naricissa whispered. Her words laced with so much pain.

"I know, Narcissa. I know." Levinson whispered as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I know Lucius and Draco would probably hate me for this but Merlin…" She paused as if battling with herself. "I…"

Levinson tilted his head and waited patiently for her answer; even though he was already aware of what it would be.

"I would have to say that perhaps…" Narcissa paused to look at Levinson. Her eyes were glazed with unshed tears. Tears she was fighting to hold back. "You _are _right."

She knew she was betraying everything she's ever believed in. Everything her family and most purebloods stood for. But if it was for her son, she was willing to give up anything and everything.

Nodding his head, Levinson patted her on the shoulder. "It's alright Narcissa. I don't blame you for choosing that decision. Frankly, if I were in your situation, I believe I would have done the same."

Nodding in understanding, Narcissa took out her silk handkerchief and carefully padded her eyes. "I just hope Draco would be able to understand."

Levinson smiled. "Oh you know that little rascal. He's stubborn as hell and his head's as hard as a diamond." He chuckled to himself. "But he'll come around eventually."

"You really think so?" Narcissa asked with hope-filled eyes.

"I believe so. Yes."

(END OF FLASHBACK)

* * *

><p>Draco let out an irritated sigh when he heard a knock on his door. Glancing at the clock, it read 12:02. Muttering colorful profanities, he hauled the door open in annoyance.<p>

"I said you deliver lunch at exactly 12 noon you useless-"

He blinked.

"Draco."

Coughing a bit, Draco dragged a weary hand over his face. "Mother."

"We need to talk."

Letting out a sigh, Draco's irritated mood resurfaced. "If this is about that ridiculous marriage-"

"No." Narcissa cut off. "It's not. Come meet me at the study in ten minutes."

With that, Draco watched his mother walk away. Something was up. He didn't know what but he was pretty sure it wasn't good.

Slamming his door shut, he walked back to his bed and fell backwards, allowing the soft feather-stuffed mattress to cushion his fall. Staring blankly at the ceiling, his thoughts drifted once more to his uncle's ridiculous plan.

"_She's the best choice."_

With a disgusted look, Draco pushed himself off the bed to get a change of clothes. It's been about a week since his uncle's visit and he's been shacked up in his room, wearing pajamas, ever since. Not once did he even bother to head out or stroll around the manor's grounds and enjoy the fresh air. All his meals were brought to his room and he'd done nothing but read books day and night.

Glancing at his reflection, he couldn't help but admire himself. Wearing a well-fitted, knitted black long-sleeved v-neck sweater, silver slacks and premium leather black shoes, he's never looked better. Winking at himself, he headed out of his room for what felt like the first time in years. Taking a deep breath, he headed towards the study.

* * *

><p>Narcissa motioned for her son to sit on a chair opposite of her as she fingered the golden envelope in her hands.<p>

Draco watched his mother's discomfort with concern. "Is something wrong mother?" Glancing at the envelope in her hands, realization dawned to him. "The Ministry?"

Narcissa smiled at her son. He looked so dashing even when donned in simple clothing. She watched with quiet sadness as flames from the hearth illuminated him, making his already sharp features more pronounced.

"Mother."

Snapping out of her thoughts, she smiled nervously, unsure how to breach the topic at hand.

Reaching his hand towards the enveloped, Draco looked his mother in the eyes. "May I?"

Clutching the envelope harder, Narcissa fought back the tears. She'd give anything just to not have her son read such terrible news. She couldn't help but feel so helpless as she watched all her hopes and dreams for her son disappear. Everything was slipping away from her fingers. She just didn't know what to do anymore.

"Mother." Draco stated firmly but with an edge of worry. His hand was still stretched out for the letter.

Letting out a shaky sigh, Narcissa pursed her lips. Nodding in defeat, she handed her son the letter as two beads of salty tears trailed down her cheeks.

"Mother." Draco repeated, this time with nothing but worry in his voice.

"I'm fine." Narcissa defended as raised her a hand to stop Draco from approaching. She then stood up and hurriedly headed out of the study. "I-I'll be back."

"Mother-"

Then the door was shut.

Draco's eyebrows scrunched in anxiety. His mom had always had a strong personality. She was never one to cry, not even in front of him or his father.

Glancing at the envelope, he took the letter out with slightly shaky hands and began to read.

_This is to inform you that in two days time, the Ministry will be taking hold of the Malfoy manor for investigative purposes in relation to He-who-must-not-be-named. Although his death has already been heavily publicized and even guaranteed by Mr. Harry Potter himself, we fear for any possible relapses that may be caused by leniency in judgment._

_In line with this, a minimum of 60 days probation will be put on the Malfoy manor, an infrastructure known to have served as the Dark Lord's nest for unknown number of years. It will be handled with utmost care and any damages acquired during the probation period will be reimbursed. The Ministry will also be providing a temporary settlement for you where all expenses will be handled as well. More details regarding this matter will be provided in two days time.  
><em>

_We apologize for the inconvenience._

Draco stared at the Ministry's signature seal with disgust. It was beginning. Just as Levinson had predicted.

"Bloody bastards!" Grabbing a random wine glass, Draco chucked it angrily towards the fireplace and watched as the flames grew in fury, as if screaming profanities and promises of death.

There was no way everything would end like this. He would never, in his life, allow the ministry to make a fool out of them. Just as Draco was about to bolt out of the study, something caught his attention that made him halt in his steps.

There in the corner of the table, was the black folder Levinson had given him. It was just sitting there, taunting him regarding his next move. Glancing at it with mixed emotions, Draco slowly began to head towards it.

* * *

><p>END of Chapter two.<p>

Constructive criticism would be very much appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione's had her fill of surprises. Needless to say, being part of the Golden Trio wasn't all fame and glory. It was always coupled with constant threats of death at every corner; but fortunately, a ray of hope always lay waiting, arriving at moments that couldn't have been more perfect.

She's loved and lost. She's laughed and grieved. The time of war was a blurry battle field of emotions where only one thing remained constant – change. She thought she'd seen everything; that nothing could ever surprise her senseless ever again. Unfortunately, the universe just loved to prove her wrong.

Maybe that was why she was so stunned to find the last person on Earth she'd ever want to see coming into her office, sitting comfortably on one of her chairs with a cup of coffee in hand, first thing in the morning. He was wearing a dull but classy grey suit which matched his eyes but clashed perfectly with his blonde hair.

Mentally slapping herself, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she pinched the bridge of her nose to see if she was dreaming. She wasn't. She watched as her unwanted guest raised an inquiring yet amused eyebrow at her. His smirk never left his lips.

"Granger."

Opening her mouth, she found that she couldn't even bring herself to say anything. It was just too much of a shock for her. Harry and Ron would probably go berserk when she tells them _he_ went to see her, first thing in the morning, at her office in the Ministry.

"Speechless, Granger? Too much for you to handle?"

"I… I…" Hermione scrunched her eyebrows as she looked around her office, trying to figure out if something was a miss. Someone could have been pulling a prank on her. Merlin help her if this was Harry and Ron's doing for a good laugh. She was going to castrate them!

"Starstruck, mudblood?"

That did it.

"What the hell are you doing in my office, _Malfoy_?"She spat out his name so venomously it almost made the Slytherin prince cringe. Almost.

After taking a sip of his coffee, Draco picked up a copy of the Daily Prophet and pretended to read.

Hermione's mouth fell open in disbelief. How dare he ignore her right in her very own office? "Who do you think you are?"

After a few seconds, Draco gave Hermione a bored glance before giving her his mocking answer. "I'm Draco Malfoy."

Realizing she hasn't even moved from the door since her arrival, Hermione stomped her way to her desk before dropping her bag on it with a loud thud. "What the hell is your business here, Malfoy?" She began as she placed both her hands on her large oak desk, taking on an intimidating stance.

"I'm not sure you'd want to talk about it first thing in the morning." He replied, his gaze not once leaving the Daily Prophet.

"Then what the hell are you doing in my office at this hour?"

Draco fought a smirk. He couldn't believe he got her this angry by just sitting there. This was much more fun than he had thought.

Realizing that the snobby brat wasn't going to give her an answer, she marched to the door and hurled it wide open. "Out, Malfoy. Now."

Glancing up from the paper momentarily, Draco raised a bored eyebrow. "Can't right now. Maybe later."

Clutching the doorknob with all her might, Hermione made a move for her wand tucked at the back pocket of her jeans. Pointing it right at the Malfoy heir, she stated her threat. "If you don't get out now, I will _make_ you myself."

Hermione watched as Draco let out a sigh and folded the paper. Letting out a breath she didn't know she was holding, Hermione held the door open some more as she waited for the arrogant prick to finally get out of her office. But he never stood up.

"Malfoy." Came her low and warning tone.

"Granger." Draco imitated before clearing his throat. Slight discomfort was emanating from his form as he fumbled a bit with his tie. "As hard as it may be to believe, I actually came here for you."

Hermione didn't know what was wrong with that statement but she found her body heat rising and it wasn't because of anger. Closing the door to her office for some privacy, she leaned on it as she folded her arms in front of her chest. She didn't want any of the Ministry workers to see that _the_ Draco Malfoy was in her office. Merlin knows what people would start spreading around. "What the hell are you playing at?"

Sensing the Gryffindor princess's discomfort with his words, Draco allowed a small smirk to grace his lips. "Perhaps if you sit down for awhile, I can begin to relay to you the reason for my…" He paused to emphasize his point. "Need of you."

Hermione's initial discomfort turned into annoyance. She knew Malfoy was up to something. And whenever _he_ was involved, it couldn't be good. "Stop trying to sugar-coat your words, Malfoy. State your purpose and leave."

Draco watched as Hermione tightened her grasp on her wand. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself down, annoyed at how easily he lost his composure. He already had this whole thing planned out; but after seeing his mortal enemy once again, he felt like he was back in the halls of Hogwarts without a care in the world.

Clearing his throat, he suddenly turned serious. Whether he liked it or not, he needed Hermione's help. And Merlin knows no matter how attractive, rich and suave he is, he would never be able to make Granger see things his way. So he went for the next best thing – a compromise. He knew it was crucial that he play his cards right if he wanted to get out of this a winner.

Sensing Draco's change of mood, Hermione's senses perked up even more. He couldn't be thinking of attacking her right here in the Ministry would he?

"Granger." He began. A mixture of uncertainty and apprehension could be sensed in his tone.

Caught of guard by the sudden vulnerability of the Malfoy heir's tone, Hermione blinked in confusion. She watched as he bowed his head down and ran a hand through his silky blonde hair in slight frustration. "I wasn't lying…" He paused before looking her straight in the eyes sincerely. "When I said I needed you."

Hermione felt her temperature rise again, wishing that her face wasn't as crimson as she felt it was. "What the hell are you saying Malfoy?" She demanded in annoyance and confusion.

"Perhaps if you take a seat, we could discuss it more." He replied in a calm and soothing manner, all the while fighting the smirk itching to grace his lips.

"Why should I listen to you?" Hermione raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. She refused to let her guard down.

"It will only take a while. I promise I won't take long."

"I think you should leave-"

"Please."

Hermione's mouth fell open. And here she thought Malfoy's barging into her office was the most shocking thing she's ever experienced her whole life. That word was definitely something she'd never expect Draco Malfoy _himself_ to say to her.

Not knowing how to respond to the unexpected plea, Hermione moved towards her desk, all the while shooting suspicious glances at the 'new', no, 'different' Malfoy before her. Something was _definitely_ up. The moment she finds out what it was would be the moment she would hex Malfoy's ass out on the streets and maybe even to oblivion.

* * *

><p>Hermione blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice.<p>

Just when she thought Draco Malfoy's utterance of the word 'please' was the most shocking thing she's ever witnessed her entire life, she was proven wrong. _Again_.

"Now would be a good time to say something…" Draco stated a bit apprehensively but was equally annoyed at the delay.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione began to summarize everything that Malfoy had just told her not too long ago. "So let me get this straight." She began as she watched Malfoy nod at her to go on. "_You_ want _me_ to pretend to be your _fiancé_ in order to get in the Order's _good_ side, which would _probably_result to you having your _temporarily_ confiscated mansion back?"

Draco tilted his head to the right and looked deep in thought. "It doesn't sound as cunning as it actually is when you say it that way."

"I stated it exactly as it is!" Standing up from her seat, Hermione began to pace the room. "Do you have any idea how _ridiculous_ that all sounds?"

"It's not _ridiculous_." Draco defended in a calm manner as he mocked Hermione's tone. "I just summarized everything for you so it lacks most of the details that mark its astuteness."

Hermione scoffed in disbelief. "I doubt knowing more details about it would make it even the least bit _astute_. There is absolutely nothing_astute_ about what you had just mentioned!" Letting out a tired sigh, Hermione began massaging her temples before giving the Slytherin prince a look that said 'you're-an-idiot'.

"Listen, Malfoy, as much as it _fascinates_ me that you have a…" She paused to look for the right word. "…sense of humor, I honestly have a lot of things to do and things like these… Well…" She shrugged as she tucked a few strands of her hair behind her ear. "I really don't have time for any of this."

Hermione shifted her weight and chewed on her bottom lip. The gaze Malfoy was giving her was very unsettling. She couldn't tell if he was disappointed, sad, angry or even, dare she say, somewhat lost.

"Malfoy?" She called out after several moments of silence.

Shifting his gaze from her hazel eyes to the floor, Draco let out a defeated sigh before standing up. Looking at Hermione straight in the eyes, Draco gave her a polite nod. "I understand."

Hermione watched in surprise as the Slytherin prince turned around and headed for the door. That was definitely not the reaction she had expected. Opening her mouth to say something, anything, Hermione found that she couldn't. Besides, she had absolutely no idea what to say in the first place.

So that was it? No arguing? No threats? No silly name calling? No degrading remarks? Who was this person and what had he done to Draco Malfoy?

Opening the door, Draco cleared his throat before tilting his head to the side to look back, careful not to glance at the Gryffindor princess. "I apologize for the inconvenience." And with that, he left.

Hermione was left alone in her office still stunned from the unexpected encounter. Heading for her desk, Hermione slowly dropped on her chair as she shook her head both in confusion and disbelief.

Looking at an imaginary audience, Hermione let out a frustrated sigh. "What the hell just happened?"

* * *

><p>Draco let out a tired sigh as he sat on the foot of his bed. Deep in thought, he began to replay the scenes of his encounter with Hermione in his mind, noting all of her expressions, remarks and body language. If he was right, which he usually was, he could actually make this work.<p>

Smirking triumphantly, he conjured up a glass of vodka before slowly downing the drink and sighing in satisfaction. He really should have just become an actor. After what he just pulled today, his acting skills would've merited an award. Letting out a chuckle, Draco took another sip. After all these years, Hermione Granger hasn't changed at all.

If there was one thing he knew about the hardworking muggle, it was her incessant need to always, _always_, 'help' those in need. She and her Gryffindor friends had always been quick to sacrifice themselves for the 'greater good'. The moment they saw an opportunity to intervene and 'help', as they would love to put it, they would do so in a heartbeat. So what better way to appeal to the bucktooth witch than to nudge her intrinsic love of charity?

He saw the way she looked at him when he stood up and left. He saw the guilt flash through her eyes as she fought the urge to make him stop walking away. He saw how she was so close to saying she'd help him, if only the rational part of her mind hadn't been quick to stop her.

He could do this. He could _actually_ do this.

Now all that was left was to execute stage two of his plan. After that, he was sure goody two shoes Granger would be right where he wanted her to be – by his side, acting as his girlfriend – by the end of the week.

Who would've thought manipulating the mudblood was this easy?

* * *

><p>Hermione let out a pleasurable sigh as she lowered herself into the tub. Soft giggles of glee left her as she watched the bubbles engulf her petite frame. Inhaling nothing but the delicious scent of vanilla and honey, she closed her eyes in satisfaction. This was exactly what she needed after a long day's work.<p>

Leaning her head on the edge of the tub, she couldn't help but recall the events of the day. Everything would have been as they should be, of course, if only a certain arrogant prick hadn't waltzed in her office first thing in the morning and disrupted her entire routine.

Letting out a sigh, she still couldn't get over Malfoy's ridiculous matrimonial idea. Surely there were other, more cunning ways to convince the Ministry that they've _changed_, right?

Hermione let out another sigh as she fought the smile forming in her lips at the hilarity of it all. The day was just filled with so many unexpected surprises that she couldn't help but laugh. First of all, _Draco_ _Malfoy_ was in her office of his own free will to see her personally for a _favor_. Second of all, _Draco_ _Malfoy_ had actually told her 'please'. And he said it in such a sincere way that it couldn't have been an act. Third of all, _Draco_ _Malfoy_ had given her a proposition of _marriage_.

Hermione was in a fit of uncontrollable laughter. If she'd still been at Hogwarts and someone had told her _the_ Draco Malfoy would be asking her hand in marriage, she would have died laughing her ass off.

As her fit of giggles died off, her thoughts drifted back to her early morning conversation with the Slytherin prince.

* * *

><p><em>(FLASHBACK)<em>

"I'm sure you're informed of the Ministry's latest stunt?" Draco began, pausing to take note of the witch's reaction.

"I'm not sure I follow." Hermione replied with a look of confusion.

"I meant the Ministry taking hold of my manor." Draco replied indifferently, but with a hidden fury bottled in his tone.

Swallowing, Hermione answered with a curt nod. "And what does this have to do with me?"

Standing up, Draco began to wandering around the Muggle witch's office. Gazing at her collection of books, he ran a finger along their spines. Hermione followed his movements without fail. Her wand never left her hand.

"Since you're a part of the Order…" He paused, still gliding a hand through the books. "I guess we can stop the pretention." He paused again. This time he turned to look at Hermione straight in the eyes. "I know what you people are after."

Pursing her lips, Hermione leaned onto her chair and folded her arms. "I don't understand what you mean."

Raising a perfectly arched eyebrow, Draco gave Hermione a mocking look. "You're a terrible, _terrible_ actress." He retorted as turned around to inspect the pictures in her office. One photograph had gotten the most of his attention because of its uniqueness. The picture was immobile. An old couple was smiling with glee but the frozen quality of the photograph did nothing to justify their feelings of happiness.

Hermione gritted her teeth. "And what's that supposed to mean?

"Equality for all?" Draco scoffed. His eyes were still on the stationary photograph. "Well I have to admit I was surprised at first. Not because of the idea of it all…" He tore his eyes from the picture and looked straight at Hermione. "But because of the fact that it was actually put in motion." Draco shrugged his shoulders in nonchalance. "But what can I say? I should have expected as much."

"Malfoy, I don't understand the point of this conversation." Hermione stated with a hint of frustration. She was confused about everything and she hated it.

"Then allow me to enlighten you." Draco replied courteously but with a tone of superiority.

"Please." Hermione replied sardonically.

Clearing his throat, Draco looked Hermione square in the eyes. "To cut the long story short, I need your help to convince the Order that I, no, that the Malfoys have changed. And…" He paused. Discomfort was evident in his voice. "And that we no longer follow the Dark Lord."

Hermione's mouth fell open in surprise. But before she could even voice out a reply, Malfoy resumed speaking once more.

"Don't try and tell me that the Order isn't out to get my family." He cut her off. "My manor is a solid proof of that."

"That's not true. The Order would never-"

"Investigative purposes." Draco paused as he let out a short bitter laugh. "You lot should have at least been a bit more convincing. It's insulting, you know." He paused again to give Hermione a mocking look. "Plus the _minimum_ of 60 days probation? Very, very unoriginal. Not to mention flat out obvious. Perhaps you should have just stated 'we are out to _confiscate_ your manor for as long as we want and there is absolutely _nothing_ you can do about it'." Draco stated with mixed amusement and annoyance. "It's pathetic."

Hermione opened her mouth to reply but Draco cut her off once more.

"You _know_ I'm right." He paused to glare at her. "I know you're well aware of what the Order plans. So don't even try denying any of that bloody crap."

Pursing her lips, Hermione avoided his gaze. He was right. The Order was out to subdue any witch and warlock that ever had established connections with the Dark Lord. It was a necessary precaution to ensure peace. It was inevitable.

Clenching his fists, Draco suppressed his anger. His uncle _had_been right. Hermione's reaction was enough proof. Draco scoffed at himself. He never really realized the gravity of the situation until the Gryffindor princess herself affirmed it.

Snapping out of her trance, Hermione directed her gaze back to the Malfoy heir. "And what does any of that have to do with me?"

"Like I said, I need your help to-"

"Convince the Order that you and your family have changed. I heard that part." She paused to give Draco a glare. "What I want to know is _how_ and _why_ it has to be me."

Draco let out an annoyed sigh at the interruption. "We want to prove to the Order that we are, in a way, supportive of their ideals. But, of course, we can't flat out declare that we _are_ sympathetic or evidently _participate_ in any of its propagandas because that would be viewed as incredulous and would merit further suspicion."

Hermione tilted her to the side to form a nod. Draco was right. The direct approach would be ineffective. "I'm still waiting for the part where I enter the picture."

"Having said all those, we thought of an alternative plan that was more inconspicuous but nonetheless, greatly effective." Draco paused, choosing the best words for his next statement.

Hermione raised an eyebrow in silent inquiry, beckoning the Malfoy heir to continue.

Seeing no other better way to state it, Draco threw caution to the wind. "A marriage with a mud-" He cleared his throat. "A marriage with a muggle."

_(END OF FLASHBACK)_

* * *

><p>Hermione shook her head as she stretched out a finger to pop a bubble. He couldn't really have been serious, right? If he married a Muggle, that would 'ruin' his entire 'family legacy'. Not to mention he'd be going against everything he believed in. Everything his father had taught him.<p>

Sure Lucius was in Azkaban and would be rotting there for the rest of his life; but there was no denying that he would inevitably hear of the news. What would Draco do then?

Biting her lower lip, Hermione did remember Malfoy saying that she really wouldn't _have_ to marry him. All she had to do was pretend to be his fiancé long enough for the Order to soften up to his family and cease their assaults.

Making a clicking sound with her tongue, she pulled her knees to her chest. She watched with fascination as water poured out of the tub and onto the floor at the sudden motion. Now that she thought about it, Malfoy's plan wasn't so bad. Sure it sounded immature and utterly stupid when he first voiced it out to her in her office but perhaps she was just too shocked to see the reason behind it.

It was like saying that he was in favor of an equality of purebloods and muggleborns, without _actually_ saying it. It was an action that would certainly have people thinking of the Malfoys as a première pureblood family in favor of equality in the Wizarding world. It was ingenious. It was shrewd, cunning, furtive – purely Slytherin.

Leaning her head back onto the tub, Hermione's gaze became transfixed to the steam escaping from her hot water bath. Perhaps she could help-

Bolting up in an upright sitting position, Hermione shook her head. There was no way she was helping that jerk! Who knew what sick plans he had in mind? Besides, nobody would believe them. Not with their history at Hogwarts. Scrunching her eyebrows in annoyance at her sudden lapse of judgment, she slowly eased herself back to the tub. So what if Malfoy was 'turning over a new leaf'? It could all have easily been an act. She knew how much of a drama king he could be if he wanted to.

But then there was that one moment, when he walked out of her office. He just seemed so defeated and sad and… vulnerable. She just never thought she'd ever see him that way. An arrogant smirk, a condescending sneer, a spoiled pout, a haughty laugh – those were the things that were supposed to be on his face because they were what suited him. Not that foreign melancholic expression. It didn't fit with him. Didn't suit him at all! It almost made him seem… human. And he wasn't human! As far as Hermione was concerned, he was the worst person she'd ever met and she's met Voldemort.

There was no arguing that Voldemort would always hold the title of being nothing but pure evil; but Malfoy would always be the holder of the title 'the person who's made _her_ life a _living_ _hell'_. All those years of enduring his bullying at Hogwarts. All those times she'd been the laughing stock of the whole school because he called _that_derogatory term. All those times he would make fun of everything about her and her friends as if he was just commenting on the weather. Hermione was seething now. He was the _face_ of evil in her life. And even if he did change, or so he says, she would sooner slit her wrists than lend him a hand.

Hermione continued to pop random bubbles as leisure when a thought suddenly crossed her mind.

Why would Draco Malfoy pick her? Sure she was a member of the Order so that made things more convenient; but then there were other muggleborn females in the Order who probably would have jumped his bones the very moment he offered his proposition. So why did he go through the embarrassment of asking for her help when he could've gone to another? Why did he risk telling her everything he planned on doing when he had no reassurance of her loyalty? Why? All he needed was a muggleborn witch to parade with as his fiancé for a couple of weeks or months, before chucking her off to the side the moment the Order's suspicions died down.

So why did it have to be her?

Hermione massaged her temples and restrained herself from thinking too much. Who cares if Draco did ask _her_ out of all the muggleborn witches? The answer to that didn't matter. All she knew was that she wasn't helping Draco out with his stupid plan and that was the end of it.

* * *

><p>End of chapter three. I really like how this story is turning out. Constructive criticism would be very much appreciated!<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

"Move! Move!"

"Make way!"

A stretcher zipped passed through the white halls of Saint Mungos. Along with it, moans of agony could be heard all the way. Stopping at a room that read 1000, the staff hurriedly transferred the patient onto a bed. "Call for Healer Granger immediately." A healer addressed a nurse.

"Huh? Healer Granger, sir?" The nurse replied in slight confusion as she eyed the patient. "But…"

"Just do it!"

* * *

><p>Hemione raised her head as a knock resounded from her door. Stacking a few files and folders to the side, she cleared her throat. "Come in."<p>

"Healer Granger?" A nurse politely spoke as she peeped from the partially opened door.

"Yes?" Hermione replied with slightly raised eyebrows.

"Um, I know it's your break Healer Granger, but unfortunately you're needed for a patient."

Smiling, Hermione nodded. "It's fine. It's fine. What room?" She began as she stood up from her chair and packed away the remaining file she was reviewing.

"Room 1000, ma'am."

Hermione let out a sigh as she nodded. Rooms within the thousand labels were made especially for the rich and they were the most difficult patients to deal with in terms of compliance. Not to mention that most rich people were of pureblood decent.

"I'll be right there. Do you, by any chance, know what happened to the patient?" Hermione inquired as she grabbed her pen and clipboard.

"Oh, the patient is suffering from a comminuted fracture on his right arm." The nurse began.

Hermione paused for a while to glance at the nurse. "A fracture?" She stated in slight disbelief as she raised one eyebrow.

The nurse replied with an uncertain smile. "I was curious myself as well. But the healers sent me to get you specifically and told me to ask no further questions."

Narrowing her eyes skeptically Hermione sent the nurse away with a nod.

Letting out an annoyed sigh, Hermione walked out of her office and slammed the door. It must have been the doing of one of those pureblood healers. They were always out for a laugh at her expense. She clenched her fists. It felt as if she was starting all over again. She's already made a name for herself damn it. She deserves to be treated with respect.

Marching towards the 1000th room, Hermione braced herself to face her pureblood tormentors. She reached out for the knob only to have the door fly open to her surprise. Taking a few steps back, Hermione watched as a healer bowed respectfully at someone inside the room before closing it slowly and quietly.

Standing in front of her was Gregory Husslehurf, one of the best healers of Saint Mungos; not to mention the leader of the supposedly inconspicuous _'I hate Granger'_ club some pureblood healers had going on. He raised his pointed nose up in the air causing the lights to flash intimidatingly on his thick glasses. The gesture made him seem taller than Hermione though in reality they were nearly of the same height. Sighing, Hermione tried her best not to stare at his flat, choppy, sleek brown hair that seemed to be clinging onto his very skull. Instead, she focused her gaze between his eyes, ignoring the bulging cheekbones that make the man more like a walking skeleton, given he already had ashen, pale skin due to lack of exposure to the sun.

Staring at Hermione from head to toe and back, he scoffed. "I don't know what kind of joke this is but it seems you've done a few things to climb yourself up the social ladder." He paused to give Hermione an intimidating glare. The Gryffindor witch replied with a nonchalant gaze. "Enjoy your popularity now Granger, because I assure you…" He paused again as he raised his chin up in the air to exhibit an aura of superiority. "It won't last very long." With that, Husslehurf walked passed Hermione, not missing the chance to shove his shoulder onto hers.

Letting out a sigh of indifference, Hermione walked towards the door and reached for the knob once again. Putting on a professional aura, she swung it open and greeted her patient with a smile.

"Good morning. I'm Healer-"

"Granger." A monotonous voice stated. "You definitely took your time didn't you?"

Hermione stared at disbelief. This was not happening.

"What if I was on the brink of death? Honestly."

Hermione could only blink. There, sitting upright on the middle of the plush white bed wearing his signature black tux, was none other than the Slytherin prince himself, Draco Malfoy.

"Who would've thought St. Mungos would hire someone so unprofessional."

Biting her tongue to prevent herself from hexing the foul-mouthed idiot into oblivion, Hermione took a deep breath to calm herself down.

"Well? What the bloody hell are you standing around there for? Get me some damn skelegrow and painkillers!"

Clearing her throat, Hermione decided to ignore everything else aside from the patient's condition. She's handled a lot worse. She could handle this.

"It seems you've fractured your right humerus, Mr. Malfoy. I-"

"Well aren't you the _smartest_? Are we going to stand here all day discussing the wonders of human anatomy while you continue playing the role of _captain_ _obvious_? Or will you just bloody get me some skelegrow?!"

Gritting her teeth in annoyance, Hermione simple nodded. "Of course, sir."

Slamming the door on her way out, Hermione quickly ordered a nurse to send some skelegrow to room 1000 before she hurriedly headed to her office. Ignoring everyone in her way, including messages of thanks from her patients and their families, Hermione practically ran through the hallways of the hospital. She just couldn't see anything right now. Her vision was tunneling. All she could see was red. Everything was blocked from her mind except the thought of getting to her office and fast.

With a swing of her hand, the door of her office flew open with a bang. Entering it in an unbelievable pace, she slammed it shut before casting a silencing spell and screaming bloody murder.

* * *

><p>Malfoy forced the disgusting formula down his throat before whispering curses and promises of violence. "Why can't those bloody healers formulate better tasting medicine? Honestly! With all the advancements in magic one would think they would finally conjure up some artificial flavoring! This tastes like a Hippogriff's bad breath!"<p>

Scowling at the empty bottle of skelegrow, Draco shifted his attention at the annoying nurse who wouldn't stop swooning at him. "Where's Granger?"

"Oh, um, I believe she went back to her office to take care of a few things, sir."

Raising a perfectly arched eyebrow, Draco waved his hand towards the door. "Well will you tell her to head back here? I'm her patient for crying out loud! I even specifically asked for _her_. I won't leave from here until she takes a look at me."

"Y-Yes! Of course sir!" The nurse stuttered as she rushed out of the room.

The moment the door shut, Malfoy immediately slapped himself on the forehead as he let out a frustrated growl. Absolutely _nothing_ was going according to plan. He was supposed to go the St. Mungo's, pretend to be withdrawn, depressed, hopeless and pitiful, ask for Granger specifically, win her sympathy, then POOF! Earn her complete allegiance to his grand master plan.

He just forgot one thing – how irritable he gets whenever pain entered the equation. He was just supposed to crack _half_ of his humerus. That was the initial plan. But he needed it to be believable. He needed to look more pitiful than necessary. So he decided on crushing his entire brachium. He was so intent on the being convincing that he was stupid enough to fail to anticipate how much _unbearable_ pain it would give him.

Letting out a sigh, Draco calmed himself down before allowing himself to smirk. He hasn't completely lost yet. Revamping his entire scheme, Draco let out a sinister smirk. Time for plan B.

Taking out a small blue vial from the pocket of his black dress pants, he took the cork off before holding it up in the air. "Cheers." Downing the entire concoction, Draco immediately called for a nurse, all the while trying his best to wipe his smirk off. He waited patiently as he winced. He was starting to feel the effects already.

Opening the door slowly and calmly, another nurse had come to answer to his needs. "How may I be of service sir?"

"I don't feel so good." He wiped his forehead with the back of one of his hands. His eyes were shut forcefully, his breathing labored and his skin showing a thin layer of sweat steadily building up.

The nurse made her way to the Malfoy heir before bringing her wand over to his forehead. "You're burning up sir! You're temperature is 41.6 degrees!"

"May I please have Ms. Granger check up on me?" Malfoy weakly voiced out between ragged breaths. "I don't think I can last much longer."

"O-Of course sir!" The nurse hurried out of the room frantically.

Despite the difficulty in breathing, Malfoy couldn't help but smirk. No matter how screwed up his initial plan was, there were always alternatives. After all, that was just plan A. And as far as he recalled, there were 26 letters in the alphabet.

* * *

><p>"Miss Granger?" All three nurses knocked for the umpteenth time. "Miss Granger? You're needed miss. Miss Granger?"<p>

"What do we do? Miss isn't answering?"

"If we go back there without her Mr. Malfoy will really get angry!"

"What is with the two of them anyway?"

"I think they're romantically involved!"

"No way! Mr. Malfoy would never go for a Muggle!"

"Then why would he come all the way here just for some skelegrow? I sure he has _that_ in his mansion!"

"Also why did he request for Healer Granger specifically?"

A deep, firm cough was heard.

All the nurses turned their attention excitedly to the newest addition to their gossip crew, only to turn pale. "Head healer!"

Hermione continued to do her paperwork ignoring all the knocks and pleas she was hearing at her door. As far as she was concerned, the name 'Malfoy' did not exist. She was starting to get the hang of ignoring the noises outside her door, concentrating only on finishing all her paper works, when all of a sudden the door to her office swung open.

Glaring at the unwanted visitor in annoyance, Hermione's opened her mouth to rant about the invasion of her privacy; but immediately decided otherwise.

"Healer Granger." A stern voice echoed in her office as the door to her office closed.

Hermione closed her eyes and swallowed a curse. Standing up, Hermione bowed politely towards the man standing by her door. "Head Healer, sir."

Albert Scoundriff, the very head of St. Mungos, was standing right in front of her. Clad in an expensive, all white tuxedo, his lean frame stood a good 6 foot two inches. His platinum hair shone out from under the lights and his blue green eyes, though weary with age at first glance, held a striking gleam of wisdom underneath. His demeanor was never imposing, but demanded attention and respect nonetheless. "I believe you're well aware of the reason why I'm here."

Clearing her throat Hermione lowered her gaze to the floor. "I-I may have an idea, yes, Head Healer." She felt like she was back in Hogwarts being scolded by the headmaster after getting caught doing something illegal.

"Healer Granger." Scoundriff repeated once more. The tone of his voice forced Hermione to look back at the man. He too was a pureblood, but he was never bitter towards her. He was kind and respectful, but he was very strict about business and professionalism. "I hope your denial of service isn't rooted in the fact that you fought opposite Mr. Malfoy during the war." He stated staring at Hermione straight in the eyes.

"No! Of course not sir! I've already treated a good number of Voldemort's followers as I'm sure you're well aware sir. I would like to argue that I am not denying him service, Head Healer. I am merely providing him what is necessary given his condition is only a fracture."

Narrowing his eyes, Scoundriff looked deep in thought. "It seems as if there is more to this than meets the eye. A _personal_ rift perhaps?"

Hermione swallowed. She was going to be suspended. She just knew it. The offense of negligence was equivalent to at least one month of suspension. Not to mention being accused of lack of professionalism for allowing personal matters to affect her job performance.

Letting out a sigh, Scoundriff folded his arms in front of his chest. "I'll look over this matter just this once." He began. "I don't know what Mr. Malfoy's agenda is but you can't deny him medical attention. He's threatening to sue the entire organization, as well as yourself, for negligence, discrimination and denial of service."

Hermione gritted her teeth. Trust Malfoy to exaggerate a situation and have it escalate into something more than it actually is. Hermione opened her mouth to argue when Scoundriff cut her off. "You can't deny him service, Miss Granger. We healers do not choose who we serve. We provide treatment to anyone and everyone. It's part of our oath. I'm sure you remember taking it."

Shutting her mouth and swallowing all further arguments, Hermione simply nodded. "Yes, sir. I apologize for the lack of professionalism. It won't happen again."

Soundriff gave Hermione one more look before nodding and turning his back to her. As he held the door knob, he paused to say a few more words. "I realize Mr. Malfoy is here not _merely_ for medical attention. He is up to something, and it concerns you, Healer Granger. In the event that he does try anything at all to inflict harm upon you, you have my permission to defend yourself in anyway. You do know how to activate the alarms, don't you?" He looked back and a waited for a reply. Hermione could only nod in reply. "Good." With that he left.

Hermione stared at the door of her office in disbelief. Did her supervisor just give her permission to raise arms against Malfoy? Now that was something she definitely didn't see coming. She smiled. Purebloods weren't _all_ evil. After all, in every rule there _is_ an exception.

Feeling even more optimistic and empowered, Hermione slowly made her way to the door. Just as her hand reached the knob, the door bolted open to her surprise. In front of her was a frantic nurse.

"O-Oh! I apologize Healer Granger!"

Narrowing her eyebrows in annoyance at the lack of respect for privacy, Hermione clicked her tongue. "What matter is so important that you can't even knock, Catherine?"

"Mr. Malfoy's fever is too high! He's about to enter a coma!"

* * *

><p>Blurry images clouded his vision the moment he struggled to open his eyes. Hushed whispers and sounds of things being dragged around the room flooded Draco's ears. Where was he?<p>

"He's coming to."

"Thank God. I thought he'd never make it."

Narrowing his eyes to get a clearer view of his surroundings, Draco could only make sense of dark silhouettes and cloudy figures. "Where am I?" Seeing a few of the silhouettes group together to his right, he heard a soft female voice speaking.

"Could I ask for some privacy with Mr. Malfoy? There are a few things I would like to discuss with him and I believe having a room full of medical personnel would make it harder for him to focus and adjust."

After hearing hushed replies of consent, Draco watched and listened as the room slowly cleared out, leaving one last figure in the room.

"Malfoy." Came the demanding voice, so far from the initial gentle, soothing tone.

"Granger?"

Closing his eyes shut, he blinked a couple more times before the silhouette slowly transformed into a blurry figure. He could now make out the trademark bushy hair and striking hazel eyes of the Gryffindor princess.

"Have you _officially_ gone mad?" Her tone was livid.

"What are you talking about?" Malfoy croaked. His throat was drier than usual and his head still housed a slow, intermittent, dull throb.

"I was talking about this."

Malfoy waited patiently for his vision to clear only to find the Muggle healer holding up a small, empty vial. Letting out a sigh, Malfoy close his eyes in nonchalance. "What about it?"

Hermione's mouth fell open. What about it? What. About. It? "Stop sounding so standoffish! You almost died you insufferable git!"

Sparing Hermione a glance, Draco let out a soft scoff. "Don't exaggerate. I think I would have known what I drank Granger. I don't need you to explain to me what it was."

Hermione watched as Draco settled onto bed more comfortably before closing his eyes shut. "We're you _trying_ to get yourself killed then?" It was seriously taking every ounce of her self-control not to strangle the arrogant pureblood wizard.

"That was the general idea. Yes." Popping one eye open, he glanced uninterestingly at the murderous form of his supposed healer. "But I knew you were competent enough to counteract the potion. So no harm done."

Hermione looked at the tired form of the Slytherin prince stunned. She didn't know what shocked her more – his well-placed complement or his lack of regard for his well-being. "Why?"

"Excuse me?" Draco replied in a bored tone.

"_Why_ did you do it?" Hermione stood tall, unyielding in front of the weakened form of the Malfoy heir.

Malfoy closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. It was taking him everything he had not to smirk right then and there. Hermione was falling right into his trap. She was asking all the right questions without him having to do anything. This was easier than he thought.

"Malfoy." Came her persistent tone. Impatience was laced with the mention of his name.

Malfoy sat up straight, ignoring the slight pain in his joints as he moved. He kept his gaze on Hermione's stubborn frame, daring her to hold his gaze long enough. Hermione wouldn't budge. Ignoring the discomfort she was feeling under the heated gaze of the Slytherin prince, she kept her eyes glued on his, refusing to back down.

Letting out a sigh, Malfoy blinked. His challenging demeanor changed into an indifferent one. "I wanted to try it."

Feeling her mouth drop open, Hermione shook her head in disbelief. "You wanted… to _try_ it?"

Shifting his gaze from Hermione's shocked hazel eyes to the door, he narrowed his gaze. "I didn't mean _death_ Granger. I've been brewing a few concoctions lately. I've come up with quite a few already. They were made to mimic certain symptoms of specific illnesses."

Hermione looked at the Slytherin prince as if he'd just grown another head. "Why on Earth would you create such a thing?"

Draco shrugged in nonchalance. "Why else? They'd be a perfect excuse to avoid annoying family gatherings, mountainous work responsibilities and never ending marriage interviews! I never really had the chance to test them. So I'm doing it now." He gave Hermione a smirk only to see that she was at a loss for words.

He tilted his head to the side as if contemplating something. "Based on the formula and the calculations I made, I approximate the symptoms to last for at most two days. However, I had yet to test if they could be cured with the respective medicine. But judging by today's events, I guess the potion _can_ be counteracted with the same medicine for the supposed illness."

Hermione was _still_ speechless. And here she thought the craziest person she's ever met was Voldemort. Malfoy just loved to prove her wrong.

"So you didn't have to get your _knickers_ in a bunch." He paused. An amused smirk adorned his face. "I would have eventually been cured even if you left me here alone to suffer." He added as he gave her a superior look. "But knowing you, of course, you just couldn't let that happen. Not with your reputation to uphold."

"So everything?" Hermione inquired silently, as if out of breath at the incredulity of it all.

"Yes Granger. Everything was an act. And here I thought you were _supposedly_ the brightest witch of her age." Draco mocked as he gave Hermione a self-satisfied smirk.

"So why the hell did you do it?" Hermione replied raising her voice about an octave higher.

"Are you deaf? I said I wanted to-"

"Try it?" Hermione finished the sentence before letting out a scoff. "Bull. Shit."

Pretending to wince, Draco tutted silently. "Words Granger. Words."

"Answer my question." She demanded, ignoring Draco's sardonic tone. "Why did you _really_ do it? Just what the hell are you after?"

Donning his signature smirk, Malfoy continued to withhold his answer, bidding his time, searching, waiting for that oh so familiar _look_. Watching as Hermione's features showed understanding, Draco couldn't help but widen his smirk.

"This..." Hermioe began, unable to finish her sentence.

"This?" Draco mimicked, trying his best to look innocent to no avail. The smirk on his face was too all-knowing to miss.

Hermione drew in a breath. She calmed herself down, gaining as much composure as she could. "This is all about that ridiculous proposition of yours, isn't it?"

Allowing his smirk to fall, Draco raised his eyebrows in inquiry. Feigning an ignorant demeanor. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Looking away, Hermione allowed herself to scoff as she shook her head at the audacity of the man to pretend to be innocent when he had already blatantly thrown his intentions out in display.

"You…" Hermione began. Letting out another sigh, she raised both her hands in a gesture that said she's had enough and headed for the door. She couldn't take any more of Malfoy's craziness in one day. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing how his actions affect her. Pausing as she opened the door, she turned around to face him completely. She had one hand on the door knob while the other was on her hip. One of her eyebrows was arched up in a perfect angle and her eyes gave off a bored look. "The answer is still _no_. And no matter what you do or say, it will always, _always_, be NO."

Giving the Malfoy heir one last look of pure disdain, she turned around to leave but the mention of her name in such a mischievous tone made her halt and glare back at the carefree form of her supposed patient.

"Oh Healer Granger." He began. The light and cheerful sound of his voice did little to hide the underlying mockery laced in the tone. "Just to remind you." He added, his expression turned into that of an innocent one yet again. "I still have a couple more of those vials." He watched with sick amusement as Hermione turned to look at him with pure shock all over her face. "I hope you and I will have a fruitful relationship throughout my stay."

He was answered with the slam of the door.

Breaking out in a wide goofy grin, Malfoy couldn't help but commend himself. He won! He actually got the know-it-all Gryffindor bookworm to shut up and admit defeat! Making himself even more comfortable on the plush white bed, he closed his eyes. Never in his life has he felt so satisfied and proud of himself.

* * *

><p>End of chapter four! Thank you for reading! A <strong>review<strong> would be very much appreciated!


	5. Chapter 5

"You needed something?"

Glancing up from his comfortable position on a plush red velvet red chair, Malfoy motioned his guest to come and sit on another sofa beside him. "Come join me for a drink, Blaise."

Plopping onto the couch none too gracefully, Blaise grabbed a glass and watched as the Malfoy heir poured him a generous amount of fire whiskey. "So what am I here for?" He paused to take a sip, sighing at the delicious burning trail of liquor down his throat. Seeing that Malfoy was too engrossed with the dancing flames on the furnace, Blaise decided to raise a topic he found interesting. "I heard a few rumors about you."

"Oh?" Came Malfoy's indifferent reply. "And what would those rumors be?"

"Something about you being brought to St. Mungos for a fractured arm, then suddenly developing a rare disease that needed the attention of most of the healers in the institution." Zabini paused to examine his friend's reaction.

"Oh?" Malfoy replied once more with one eye brow raised. "And where did you hear such news?"

"It was all over the paper yesterday. You didn't see?"

Downing what was left of his drink, Malfoy let out a contented sigh. "Nope. I'm afraid I haven't checked the papers yet. Did they write anything else?" He added as he glanced at his old time friend.

"Yes." Zabini paused to refill his glass. "I personally found that piece of information _intriguing_. That is, if it were true." Glancing at Malfoy, Zabini placed his drink on the glass table and folded his arms. "According to a reliable source, you came there requesting for a specific healer." He paused again. His gaze never left Malfoy. "Hermione Granger to be exact."

Nodding nonchalantly, Malfoy refilled his glass as well. "I see. The things people write, ey?"

"Is it true?" Zabini finally asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

Smirking, Malfoy laid his glass down on the table. "What do you think?"

Letting out a sigh, Blaise leaned his back on the soft velvet couch, his arms still crossed on his chest. "I think you're planning something. And I think I have to play a part in it."

Smirking, Malfoy raised his glass as way of saying he was correct. "I was planning to stay a few more days at St. Mungos, until Granger would have no choice but to accept my proposition." He paused as he stood up, twirling the glass of fire whiskey gracefully in one hand as he strutted around the room. "But I came upon a _very_ interesting piece of information that inspired me enough to rethink my entire strategy."

Blaise narrowed his eyes. "I don't understand."

Smirking, Malfoy gave him a look. "Let's see. Let's start from the beginning." He paused as he traced a hand over a classy wooden table at one end of the room. "I'm sure you're aware of my mansion being 'under probation'. Of course, why else would we be meeting in this old dump of a house if it weren't true, right?"

Blaise nodded as he studied the room. True the house offered by the ministry was definitely smaller than the Malfoy mansion, only about a tenth of its size actually. But glancing at the black fur carpet, the plush red velvet sofas, the expensive glass table in the center, the expensive looking wooden table displaying a generous amount of liquor, and the numerous books stacked on every wall of the room, it was a pretty luxurious place. Not to mention this room only served as the study.

"Read about it in the news."

"Ah." Malfoy paused as he shook his head slowly. "Everything seems to be on the news nowadays."

After a long period of silence, Blaise cleared his throat. "If you don't mind my asking, what has Granger have to do with all of this? And what exactly do you need me to do?"

Malfoy smirked. "You see. My uncle, the obese pig?" He paused to check if Zabini understood who he was talking about. Seeing Blaise nod, Malfoy continued. "The 'Order of the Phoenix' seems to be out for blood." He paused for emphasis. "My _family's_ blood to be exact."

Blaise narrowed his eyes in confusion. "But… Why would they be? The war is over. The Dark Lord-"

"Has fallen. Blah blah blah." Malfoy finished as he waved his free hand carelessly. "We both know how _that_ ended, don't we?" Moving back to the plush velvet chair, Malfoy gave Blaise a serious look. "This new _order_, which I'm sure you're familiar with, given that it's all over the _news_, is rallying for equality. Equality among _all_ magical creatures, most especially among purebloods _and_ mudbloods." He paused to down the entirety of his drink. When he moved to refill his glass, a hand shot out and grabbed it from him.

"You've had enough, mate."

Glaring at Zabini for a while, Malfoy let out a sigh. "Fine, _mother._" He cleared his throat. "The _Malfoys_ are on top of their list. You see, they have this so called list. A list of all the people who followed Voldemort." Despite his drunken state, Malfoy was able to take note of Blaise's involuntary shudder at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. "Their goal is to set an example. To prove to the world that, YES! We have power to _fuck_ with all the remains of Voldemort's legacy! And yes! We begin with confiscation of property!"

"I think you should rest, mate. You're-"

"Let me finish!" Draco demanded. "Now, where was I? Oh yes, well, my pig of an uncle gave me a solution, you see? A solution to try and stop this… This… One-sided _bullying_. And do you know what he said?"

Blaise remained quiet for a few moments before shaking his head. "No. I don't." He cringed when he heard Malfoy laugh in a crazed manner. "I have to marry a _mudblood_!"

Blaise's eyebrows rose as high as possible, allowing himself a few more seconds of silence to let the information sink in. "So, you mean to say Granger…"

"Yes. Granger." Malfoy paused as he grabbed his glass from Blaise and successfully refilled it to the brim. "I don't _have _to actually marry her. I just have to make it _look_ like we're all lovey dovey to get the ministry off my ass."

Hesitating, Blaise cleared his throat. "And… Did she– Did she agree?"

"Did. She. Agree?" Malfoy repeated before bursting out laughing once more. "Of course she _didn't_ agree!"

"So you mean to say… You asked her out?"

"No! Are you fucking _out_ of your _mind_?" Malfoy spat out as if he were burned by Blaise's words. "Like fuck I'd ever ask _her _out!"

Blaise's eyes grew wide. "So… So you mean to say…"

"Yes. I told her my plan. And asked her to help me out!" Malfoy let another bout of laughter escape, as if his misfortune was the funniest thing on earth.

"And she declined." Blaise stated monotonously.

"And. She. _Declined_." Malfoy emphasized.

Deep in thought, Blaise tried to connect all the dots. "So… Your visit at St. Mungos was to ask her to participate in your plan?"

"Yes. But that would have to be my _second_ attempt."

"_Second _attempt?"

"I asked her first in her office." Malfoy stated aloofly. "She declined of course."

Looking at his friend as if he'd grown another head, Blaise shook his head in disbelief. "So, you tried to make yourself _sick_ to gain her sympathy?"

Malfoy chuckled. "That was the initial plan. Not very astute I have to admit. But I decided I just wanted to piss her off so much that she'd have to agree with my proposal just to get me to stop torturing her."

"And?" Blaise asked with interest.

"And I realized there was a chance that that wouldn't work so when I came across a _very_ interesting piece of information, I decided to rethink my entire strategy!"

Blaise let out a sigh and swallowed a sarcastic remark. His friend seemed to have lost it. "That being?"

"That being two words."

Blaised raised an eyebrow in curiosity as he watched his friend raise two fingers up in the air for emphasis.

"Ron Weasley."

Both eyebrows rose up to his forehead. Now Blaise was interested. "I see." He knew exactly what was going on in the Malfoy heir's head.

"Funny how my lack of interest in the _Golden Trio_ had almost, _almost, _cost me my success in this endeavor."

"What exactly are you planning?"

"You're familiar with their history, right? Granger and Weasel I mean? I've only found out recently since, I really don't give a _shit_ about them. But since you seem to awfully _love_ the news, I'm sure you've heard?"

Nodding, Blaise grabbed his fire whiskey once more to take a sip.

"It seems the weasel and the beaver had been dating after the war, but recently, it seems they've broken up. And the reason?" Malfoy paused to look at Blaise, beckoning him to continue.

"The news say they both claim that they're better off friends. But it was revealed that a third party was involved, Lavender Brown."

Malfoy downed his entire drink once more. "Yes! Lavender _fucking_ Brown! And ever since then, the beaver and the weasel were never seen together ever again! Pothead was caught in between the rift of both his precious friends, and the Golden Trio was never seen complete ever since!"

Blaise let out a tired sigh at the sight of his drunken friend. He really has been through too much already. "And your plan?"

"My plan? It's simple." Malfoy paused as he smirked. He attempted to stand but his knees gave out causing him to slump back onto the chair.

"Easy there, mate. You should just sit down." Blaise calmly stated as tried to grab the drink away from the Malfoy heir's grasp. "That's enough." Seeing that his stubborn friend was about to protest, Zabini beat him to the mark. "If you're going to tell me your _plan_, and ask me to _help_ you, you need to stay the least bit _sober_ to do that."

Grumbling, Malfoy allowed Blaise to take his half-filled glass. "Have you ever read any romance novels?"

Blaise looked at Malfoy as if he were crazy. "Why in the bloody hell are you asking that question?"

"From the ones I've perused, I came upon this very interesting conclusion."

Blaise let out a tired sigh. "I'm not sure where this is going but please, do go on speaking nonsense."

"The stories often revolve around two people, usually of opposite qualities. You know? Rich influential man falls in love with a seemingly average woman, or vice versa; then they go through _ridiculous_ obstacles, which in my opinion are all a bunch of _bloody_ _crap_. Then the world finally admits they should be together and they live happily ever after!" Malfoy paused. "Well, that or it ends in a character death."

Blaise let out another tired sigh as he allowed himself to slouch further on the couch. "Your point, please, if you actually have one."

"Ever since my visit at St. Mungos, people have been spreading rumors." Malfoy paused to smirk before scowling a few seconds after. "Rumors that are _absolutely_ repulsive. You see, they say that Granger and I seem to have some sort of 'secret relationship'. They ask, why else would I ask especially for her when it's obvious that Malfoys are allergic to anything and everything _mudblood_?"

Blaise began to sit up, starting to understand where the conversation was going.

"Today, I sent over 12 dozens of white roses over to St. Mungos, addressed especially for Granger. Attached to it is a _sincere_ note of thanks." He smirked. "I'm assuming _that_ will be on your beloved news by tomorrow. And do you know what I hear people say?"

Blaise nodded with understanding. "They say it's like a fairy tale come true."

"Exactly!" Malfoy exclaimed as he raised a fist in the air. "I hear old maidens _swoon_ at the idea of what Granger and I might have together! I hear young women giggle at the thought of the _cruel, prejudice pureblood aristocrat_ falling for the _simple__, intelligent muggleborn woman_! Men pinning for women who they believe are out of their league sympathize with me, cheer me on, just so they can believe that if I succeed, they can as well!"

Blaise raised an eyebrow. Did Malfoy even notice he just complimented his alleged mortal enemy in more ways than one?

"It's the beauty of the unattainable! The delicious seduction of the forbidden! Think about it. Two people who fought on opposing sides during the war, sworn mortal enemies, Gryffindor and Slytherin! In love? Why, this will be the talk of the century!"

As much as Blaise hated to admit, despite his drunken state, Malfoy actually had a point. Target the masses, not the ones in power. Appeal to the majority. The ministry may hold in their hands the right to judge, but the view of the masses, especially now in this new era where equality was held at utmost importance, was the key. If Malfoy was able to sway the masses to his side, the ministry wouldn't be able to touch him so easily.

"You actually had a point amidst all that rambling." Blaise shook his head in disbelief. Every ounce of Malfoy was _definitely_ Slytherin. Trust him to be able to think of such an outrageously effective plan.

"Now this is where you come in." Malfoy continued, his speech becoming slightly slurred. "I need you to research the weasel's schedule – where and when he works, where he usually hangs out and most importantly, where he and Brown go out on dates or hell, even where they _fuck_! I need every single bit of information I can get!"

Nodding, Blaise crossed his arms in front of his chest once again. "What do you need those for?"

Malfoy smirked yet again. "In every action, there should be an equal opposite reaction."

Blaise scrunched up his eyebrows in confusion once more. "You're rambling again."

"As beautifully bittersweet as my _story _with Granger is, it won't blossom if I don't get an appropriate _reaction _from her."

Blaise nodded. Malfoy had a point yet again.

"So you see, I thought to myself. How can I make the stuck up, self-righteous know it all agree to my plan? What can she possibly_ get _from helping me out?" Malfoy paused, still smirking. Blaise was beginning to wonder if the muscles on his face had cramped from too much smirking. "The answer is simple." Malfoy paused again to take a sip of fire whiskey. Narrowing his eyes, Blaise groaned. He may have confiscated Malfoy's glass but he left his own on the table.

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." Malfoy stated. "The answer is _revenge_."

"What makes you think she would want that?" Blaise inquired as he tried to grab the glass of fire whiskey from the Malfoy heir to no avail. He let out an irritated sigh. "She's self-righteous and self-sacrificing. What would you do if you find out she doesn't want revenge?"

Malfoy chuckled. "Yes. Granger does have an _insane_ principle regarding self-sacrifice. But you see, she's still _human_. She's still capable of feeling things, like jealously perhaps.

Blaise's eyebrows rose in understanding. "So that's why you asked me to get all that information about Weasley."

"Exactly, my friend." Malfoy grinned.

"But how are you going to get her to see the two in action?"

Malfoy let out a steady breath. "You leave that part to me. I have the perfect plan to get her to agree to my terms." He swirled his glass of whiskey, hypnotized by its wonderful vibrant color. "Once I put my plan into action, she'll be begging me to play the part of her lover."

* * *

><p>End of chapter five.<p>

I just want to take this opportunity to share a bit of how I plan to portray Malfoy. I've read a LOT of Dramione stories but oddly enough, I've never read one wherein Draco was portrayed as dangerously clever and purely intellectually Slytherin. And I mean the sinister mastermind type. In the canon series, I always think of him as second to Hermione in terms of grades so that makes him unquestionably smart. So here I want to delve more into that striking intelligence and give Hermione a run for her money. I believe Hermione is smart, yes, _academically_. But I think in terms of manipulation and plotting, Draco would _definitely_ be better. I just want something different.

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

Malfoy adjusted his black tie before straightening the collar of his white button up shirt. Pulling on each sleeve cuff, he turned sideways to check if his shirt was tucked neatly onto his polished light grey pant suit. Grabbing a dark, striped gray vest, he pulled it into each arm before buttoning all three black buttons at the area of his midriff. Pulling on the edge of the vest, he checked again if his tucked white shirt remained where it was. Lastly, reaching for the matching polished light grey suit jacket, he inserted one arm each once again, careful not to create any unnecessary creases. Buttoning the button on the area of his midriff, he pulled at the sleeve cuffs glancing at the alluring way the three-piece suit fit his body. Standing tall and running a hand through his slightly tousled hair, Malfoy couldn't help but smirk.

"Let the games begin."

_(Flashback)_

"_How are you going to get her to see the two in action?"_

_"You leave that part to me. I have the perfect plan to get her to agree to my terms." Blaise watched as Malfoy stared at his glass of whiskey intently, hypnotized by its wonderful vibrant color. "Once I put my plan into action, she'll be begging me to play the part of her lover."_

_Zabini tried his best to conceal his curiosity but he found he simply couldn't. As ridiculous Malfoy's plan sounded, something about it just seemed purely and utterly brilliant. He cleared his throat. "Care to share?"_

_Malfoy chuckled. "Why so interested? I was under the impression you found my plans to be absolutely ludicrous."_

_Blaise let out an embarrassed sigh. "You have to admit it did sound like that at first."_

"_At first?" Malfoy repeated, tilting his head to the side, goading._

_This time, Blaise exhaled impatiently. "Alright! Alright! Your plans actually make sense, okay? Now are you going to tell me the rest or not? Because if not then I can leave and get right down to what you're asking me to do."_

_Malfoy chuckled again. "Why so defensive mate? Relax." Malfoy let out a long breath. "I was only teasing."_

_Blaise responded by rolling his eyes. Even drunk, Malfoy wouldn't miss a moment to boast about his intellect. Now if only he used his intelligence for the greater good of the entire Wizarding world then maybe he'd be able to solve a good number of chronic problems._

"_For now, I have five essential pawns to manipulate." Malfoy began. "Care to guess who they are?"_

_Blaise sighed. Why did Malfoy always have to ask questions instead of just answering everything himself? "Granger is pretty obvious. So is Weasley." He began, pausing to note the quick nod from the Malfoy heir. "Brown is one as well, seeing that she's the alleged reason for the break-up." Malfoy nodded once again. Blaise paused to think of the remaining two. "I put my money on Potter as well." Malfoy gave him a thumbs-up, too busy drinking more of the fire whiskey to nod his head. "Ginny Weasley?"_

_Malfoy chuckled and shook his head. "True she will play a part in all of this. But she's not one of the five essential pawns."_

_Blaise raised an eyebrow, quickly scanning his brain for any other important pawn Malfoy needed to get his hands on. "Molly Weasley?"_

_Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Just so we can save time, the last pawn in NOT a Weasley. Merlin knows how many of them there are."_

"_A professor from Hogwarts? Professor Mc-?"_

"_No." Malfoy stated monotonously._

"_Someone from the current Order of the-"_

"_No."_

"_Someone working at St. Mun-"_

"_No."_

_Blaise finally let out an impatient sigh. "Then who the hell's the last one?"_

_Smirking, Malfoy downed the rest of his drink. "What's the fun in telling you everything right here, right now?"_

_Blaise glowered and opened his mouth to shout profanities only to be stopped by a well-placed clue from the Malfoy heir._

"_You'll find the last pawn's name written clearly in blank ink when tomorrow's news is published."_

_(End of Flashback)_

Grasping the tip of his wand, Malfoy conjured up an elegant long stemmed white rose. Smirking, he grabbed a handful of floo powder in another hand. "St. Mungos!"

* * *

><p>Malfoy stood tall as he walked through the hallway of St. Mungos with one destination in mind – Hermione Granger's office. He did his best to remain casual and nonchalant despite the stares he was receiving from the staff and patients of the hospital. He fought a smirk and an urge to strut. He needed sympathy, not admiration. He needed to play his cards right if he wanted to get out of this a winner.<p>

He watched from the corner of his eyes as women swooned at the idea of his visit. He watched people give him a one over, their gazes ultimately ending at the white, long stemmed rose. They had no doubt about it. The other day twelve dozens of white roses were delivered to a single person. And now, here was the sender, in all his glory, holding one long stemmed white rose. Who else would he be visiting?

Malfoy's thoughts once again wandered over to Blaise's insistent questioning the other night.

_(Flashback)_

"_So how are you going to do it?"_

_Malfoy replied with a confused look. "Do what?"_

"_Make Granger fall for you."_

_Malfoy choked on the fire whiskey he was just about to swallow. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he gave Zabini a chilling glare. "Who the hell said anything about making that mudblood fall in love with me!?"_

_Blaise raised an eyebrow. "How else will you convince people? I don't know how much Granger has changed but if I recall correctly, she can't lie to save her life! And if you look at your history with her? She's going to have to be a better liar than anyone else. Even you."_

_Now it was Malfoy's turn to raise an eyebrow. "I'm hurt by your view of me."_

_Blaise only scoffed as he gave the Malfoy heir a knowing look._

"_Fine. Fine." Malfoy replied as he waved his free hand in the air. "I never said anything about making her fall for me. Although if she does, I can understand. After all, how could she not?"_

_Blaise could only roll his eyes._

"_But like I said, I'm not out to 'woo' her. I'm just after her approval to play along as my girlfriend."_

"_And like I said, she sucks as a liar. Can you actually envision her as someone who can sit with you during dinner and laugh at your jokes? Hold your hand? Hug you? Kiss-"_

"_You're getting too ahead of yourself."_

_Zabini looked at Malfoy as if he grew another head. "How the hell are you going to convince people you're both a couple if you don't exhibit public displays of affection?"_

"_I'm not saying we won't." Malfoy replied with a scrunched up face in disgust. "All I'm saying is that it won't happen anytime soon. When the time comes, I can, and I will handle it." He finished with fervor and finality._

_Zabini could only nod. It was Draco after all. He could charm his way through anyone if he wanted._

"_Now we move to the crucial part." Blaise paused to give Malfoy a serious look. "How are you going to make her agree? I understand the use of Weasley and Brown. But that alone isn't enough. Who knows? She might find herself another man as her boyfriend or even just to play as one. The problem here is you, mate."_

_Draco raised an eyebrow in inquiry. "What's that supposed to mean?"_

"_It means she has to deal with you. And I'm sure I'm not the only one who remembers clearly how much you tortured her back at Hogwarts. Let's say she does get jealous of Brown and Weasley. It doesn't necessarily correlate to her accepting your proposal."_

_Malfoy took another sip of the fire whiskey. "My, my… Aren't you just loquacious today?"_

_Blaise narrowed his eyes at the mocking tone of the Malfoy heir. "Don't have a plan for that yet, have you?"_

_Malfoy chuckled. "I'll take your incessant need to locate loop holes in my plans as constructive."_

"_I'm not trying to foil your plans, mate. I'm just trying to make you see that it may not be as simple as it looks." Blaise replied as he ran a hand through his hair._

"_Of course, mate! I knew you cared about me deep down." Malfoy replied as he winked at his old friend._

_Zabini could only sneer. "That sounded wrong."_

_Malfoy burst out laughing while Blaise could only let out an exasperated sigh. "If you're trying to buy time to think of an answer to my question, it's not working. As brilliant as your plan may sound, it'll all go to waste if you can't even get past the first step: to get Granger to agree."_

_Malfoy's laughter died down slowly, reduced to a mere chuckle after a few passing seconds. "Do you know why the idea of a 'bad boy' appeals to women?"_

_Blaise looked at Draco incredulously. "Rambling? Again? Seriously?"_

_Malfoy chose to ignore Blaise's whining. "I read a study that evaluates the type of men most appealing to women." He paused, to give Blaise a look. "71 percent of the women in the study answered that the 'bad boy' type is their ideal choice."_

"_What's that supposed to mean?" Blaised raised an eyebrow in confusion._

"_Hot then cold. Mean then kind. Indifferent then sweet." Malfoy paused to take another sip. "They adore the idea of having some rugged, untamable man fall hopelessly in love with them."_

"_And that's what you're planning to do?" Blaise asked incredulously. "Hate to break it to you mate but for her you don't just spell 'bad boy', you spell 'foul, loathesome, evil little cockroach'." Blaise stifled a chuckle._

_Malfoy felt his eye twitch in annoyance, glaring at his supposed best friend with all his might. "The bad boy' image is for the majority. Not for Granger." Letting out a long breath to calm himself, Malfoy took another sip of his drink. "The bad boy should be 'good' towards his female mate, but 'bad' towards the majority. But like we've established earlier, I HAVE to be 'good' to the majority." He paused pretending to think. "But then again, just what exactly is 'good' for the majority?"_

_Blaise massaged his forehead. Draco's words were confusing the heck out of him. "You and your ridiculous mind games!"_

"_That's what you get for mocking me." Draco paused to smirk superiorly at the scoffing form of Zabini. "Shut up." Came Blaise's annoyed response. Malfoy could only chuckle at his friend's suffering._

"_I just have to look like the 'bad boy' in the eyes of the majority. I'll remain tactless, ill-tempered and disrespectful. BUT." Malfoy paused, a distinctive glint evident his in eyes similar to that of a madman's. "Whenever Granger is there, I'll show them how I 'change'. They'll see how 'smitten' the infamous Malfoy bad boy is with the Golden Girl! They'll gossip and fantasize about how impossibly sweet I must be towards her whenever we're alone together! And as for Granger, they'll think that it was high time the Golden Girl finally found someone who could make her happy after the terrible, terrible break up she and weasel had." Malfoy chuckled at his seemingly infallible plan._

"_They'll sing songs about how much power 'love' has in changing a person for the better! Then, when people see how much we 'compliment' each other, they'll have no other choice but to be convinced that I am 'good' for her as she is 'good' for me – a perfect fit. Do you understand, Blaise?"_

"_So you'll try to maintain your 'bad boy' image to add to the delicious spark of your alleged romance with Granger, and work with the angle of her break up with Weasley to get the whole Wizarding world to approve that you two are simply perfect for each other?"_

"_AND." Malfoy emphasized. "In the end be convinced that I, Draco Malfoy, and my family, are followers of Voldemort no longer." He paused, a hidden anger in his tone. "Don't forget that one important detail, Blaise." His tone went back to the normal, teasing one._

_Blaise remained silent as he studied his best friend's form. They haven't spoken about the war ever since the news about the Dark Lord's defeat was publicized. Whenever he would ask Draco how he was dealing, he would always change the topic or insert an annoying remark that would have both of them arguing, ultimately resulting to Blaise leaving. Draco was hiding something. As for what exactly, Blaise couldn't tell. If there was anyone who suffered the most during Voldemort's reign of terror, it would definitely have to be the Malfoys, especially Draco who was caught in the middle of it all. He never really had a choice. He was simply told what to do. And it was always down to two choices – follow or die._

_Debating if he should raise the questions he had in his head about the war, Zabini bit the inside of his cheek. Now was not the time. Malfoy would only redirect the entire thing elsewhere and have both of them arguing by the end of the night. And Blaise really wasn't in the mood to be pissed._

"_And Granger?" Zabini began after several minutes of silence. "What about her? All you've talked about is the majority. Will you also be a 'bad boy' towards her given that 71 percent of women find it to be 'ideal'?" Came Blaise's mocking tone._

_Blaise watched as Draco tried his best to relax covertly. It seems he too was silently bracing himself for another one of Blaise's questioning about his sanity after the war._

"_Not 'bad'. I'll change 'bad' into 'tolerable'."_

_Blaise raised an eyebrow in inquiry._

"_You see, Granger is probably the ONLY human alive to have witness every single negative aspect of my personality. Honestly. I've done everything, said everything, ABSOLUTELY mortifying to her. So the moment she sees me act 'good', her defenses will shoot up. She'll know from her gut feeling that something is wrong."_

_Blaise couldn't help but smirk at the hilarious irony of the statement._

"_So what else is left for me? That is to appeal to her sensible, rational side." Malfoy paused yet again as he twirled the glass in his hand. "I won't offer her romance when we're alone. The romance will be for the people. I'll offer her advice, options, the chance for redemption. I won't be callous, but I won't be compassionate as well. I'll make her understand that whatever we have is strictly business – a partnership we both have something to gain from. Nothing more, nothing less. "_

"_And if she still doesn't agree?"_

_Malfoy chuckled. "You don't understand. This is a balance between emotions and rational thought. She sees weasel and Brown, she sees red. She sees me, she sees logic. It's plain and simple really."_

"_Right." Blaise replied sarcastically. "You still haven't explained how she would ACTUALLY agree."_

_Malfoy chuckled. "Earlier I asked you to get the schedules of weasel and Brown. Did you get the undertone of my request?_

_Blaise raised an eyebrow. "You said you wanted their schedules together. What undertone is there?"_

"_Not just their schedule TOGETHER. I want their individual schedules as well."_

_Blaise scrunched his eyebrows. "What for?"_

_Malfoy sighed. Did he really have to spell out everything? "Think about it. What do I need to have that could be a factor into making Granger agree to play along with me? What else can I do with the information you will get me?"_

_Blaise was deep in thought. What else could Malfoy do? Provoke Weasley? No that would be detrimental. Break both of them up? That wouldn't make sense either. Then his eyes widened in realization._

"_Brown."_

_Malfoy smirked. "Brown."_

_(End of Flashback)_

* * *

><p>Malfoy stopped in front of the large oak door, eying the silver plated name of his conquest. Seeing a good number of spectators around him, he decided to put on a show. Pretending to be unaware of their stares, Malfoy raised a hand with every intention to knock, only to stop a few inches before his hand hit the door. Taking a deep breath, he put his hand back down as if deep in thought. He fought as smirk when he heard a girlish squeal behind him. Turning around, the eyed all the spectators with a surprised look on his face, before scowling in annoyance. Turning back to the door, he knocked firmly three times, before running a hand through his hair and exhaling nervously.<p>

He fought a smirk as he heard the clicking of heels just behind the door. The show was about to begin.

The door flew open and he was greeted by the cheerful face of Hermione Granger. "Yes? How may I help… YOU?!"

Malfoy feigned a surprise looked. "Um… I…"

"What are _you _doing here?!"

Glancing at the long stemmed rose hesitantly, he offered it to the fuming healer. "This… um, for you."

Hermione stared in shock at the insecure form of one Draco Malfoy with one hand offering her an elegant long stemmed white rose. "What the hell are you-"

"I've come with a proposition for lunch, if you're not too busy."

Hermione still needed a moment to get over her shock. Why would _THE _Draco Malfoy risked being caught asking her out on a date and actually offering her flowers? Hermione stared at the white rose he still held out for her when realization dawned to her. This was all about that proposal he had given her a week ago. She couldn't believe he still hadn't given up!

"Malfoy." Came her serious tone. "I don't have time to play games with you."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed at the accusation, his gaze smoldering. "Who said anything about playing games?"

Hermione shifted under the weight of his gaze, narrowing her eyes in annoyance. "The answer is NO. Leave before I force you to." They stared defiantly at each other, neither wanting to break free and lose the silent battle. Sighing, Malfoy looked down dejectedly. Hermione's eyebrows rose as high as possible.

"I see." He paused to bring the flower back down to his side. "I just wanted to say thank you, for saving my life." He bowed his head slightly. "That was all." With that, he took his leave, his head slightly tilted down in defeat and humiliation.

Hermione could only stare in shock at his retreating form. Just what the _hell_ was Malfoy thinking? As if she would be stupid enough to fall for such an obvious, pathetic attempt! Trying to thank her for saving his life when he himself drank that stupid concoction of his intentionally? Who did he think she was? She wasn't dubbed the brightest witch of her age for no reason. Scoffing in disbelief and irritation, her thoughts were immediately interrupted by none too silent whispers among the passers-by and the staff of St. Mungos who witnessed the entire exchange.

"How cruel!"

"Poor boy. To have his heart broken at such a young age."

"To be rejected in front of so many people…"

"I feel for the lad."

"She didn't have to be so mean about it."

Hermione's mouth fell open. She could not believe what she was hearing. People were _actually_ taking Malfoy's side in this? But they didn't know anything! They didn't know how much of a two-faced, evil Slytherin he was! Sure from the view of others who didn't know a thing it seemed… Like… She was the one at fault? Hermione heard her mind click as she shut her eyes in annoyance, whispering profanities to a certain blonde-haired demon. _"That conniving little ferret…"_

Deciding that it wasn't worth any of her time, Hermione turned around to shut her door. The passers-by could think whatever they wanted to think. She would stand by her decision. She was right and what she did was just. Malfoy got what he deserved for all she cared. There was no way she would agree to his ridiculous proposition even if it killed her! Just as Hermione was about to close the door, she heard a silent 'click'. Spinning around, her eyes widened to search for that strangely familiar sound. _"Oh please Merlin don't let it be-"_

Click.

Hermione watched in horror as the camera slowly moved down to reveal the face of the smirking devil that would have this scene printed out at center fold, along with flamboyant words filled with lies and deception. Hermione wanted to faint. This was not happening.

* * *

><p>Malfoy smirked as he heard familiar footsteps enter his study. It took his guest ten calculated steps before making it to his place by the fire. A newspaper was flung onto his lap as his visitor calmly sat on the sofa beside his.<p>

"Rita Skeeter." Came the calm baritone voice. "She's the fifth pawn."

Malfoy smirked. "Congratulations Blaise! For that you get an 'O'! An 'O' for obvious!"

Blaise rolled his eyes. "I have to hand it to you mate. Well played."

Malfoy grinned. "Of course. Who the hell do you think you're talking too?"

"So you tipped off Skeeter then acted like a poor defenseless lovesick idiot?" Blaise chuckled. "I was so sure you were unable to make faces like those, but _damn_ did you prove me wrong!"

Draco smirked as he glanced at the moving picture of him sporting looks of uncertainty and dejection. "I deserve an award for this, don't you agree? You have no idea how hard it was for me to stop myself from laughing my ass off! I laughed for a good whole hour after getting out of St. Mungos!"

Blaise chuckled some more. "Have you actually read the article?"

"Of course I have! The imagination of this woman and her way with words never cease to amaze me." Malfoy chuckled as he scanned for his favorite excerpt. "Ah! This would be my favorite part." He cleared his throat as he began to read dramatically, imitating Skeeter's snobbish, screechy voice.

"_Who would have thought the brave war heroine, Golden girl Hermione Jean Granger, actually had it in her heart to callously reject such a beautifully sincere gesture from Mr. Draco Malfoy, one of the most eligible bachelors of his generation? Using such merciless words to drive away the man who no doubt plays the lead in the daydreams of most of the female population! The wizarding world has never seen a more melancholic expression."_

Malfoy chuckled as Blaised grabbed the paper away from him and continued reading in an equally dramatic manner.

"_They say it is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all. But that may not be the case for Mr. Malfoy, having been rejected so brutally in front of an audience. I hope Ms. Granger can find it in her heart to forgive herself for breaking such an honest, honorable young man. Our hearts go out to Mr. Malfoy. We hope you can find it in your heart to love again."_

Blaise and Draco burst out laughing for a good whole minute.

"That's good entertainment!" Blaise whispered in between chuckles. "You have no idea how much that piece of news is the talk of the wizarding world."

"All the better!" Malfoy rejoiced as he walked towards the wooden table for some liquor. "This way, Hermione will start to feel the pressure of my proposition. But of course this is just phase one. I need to finish two more phases to achieve the first step."

"To get Granger to agree?" Blaise finished as he reached for the glass of fire whiskey Draco offered him.

Crashing back onto the velvet chair, Malfoy nodded as he swirled his own glass of fire whiskey. "The second phase will be done tonight."

Blaise took a sip of the whiskey and sighed as it burned a trail down his throat. "That being?"

Malfoy smirked as he grabbed one of the two folders on top of the glass table. Opening it to a specific page, he handed it to Blaise.

Blaise placed his glass of whiskey on the glass table as he scanned the folder he had given Malfoy earlier that day. It was Lavender Brown's profile. He was looking at her schedule for the day. Scanning the file, his eyes landed on 8 o'clock. He smirked. He knew exactly what Malfoy was planning.

"It seems she's going to go partying tonight." Malfoy smirked as he sipped more of the whiskey.

"And you're going I presume?"

"No. _We're _going."

Narrowing his eyes, Blaised gave Malfoy a curious look. "Why do I have to come?"

''Because I need you to bail me out in case she gets too _familiar_ with me." Malfoy finished, throwing a knowing look towards Blaise.

"Why not just sleep with her? That'll give you the edge over Weasley."

Malfoy let out an annoyed sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Didn't you listen to a word I said last night?"

"I really couldn't make out majority of what you were saying later that night, mate. You were pretty drunk."

Malfoy let out another sigh. "If I sleep with her, then it ends there. I may have _had_ her but she's also _had_ me. If I flaunt to weasel that I fucked his slut, his slut will flaunt to Granger that she fucked me. And although Granger may not care, the people will. Once they get a wisp of that story, it's all over for me. I'd look like I just took Granger out for a fun spin. And I can't have my image tarnished any further."

"Then what'll you do with Brown?"

"Simple. We flirt. I make her feel like she's a bigger prize than Granger. Make her feel as if I'm unlucky to not have her by my side. As disgusting as that may sound." Malfoy paused to give Blaise a look of repulsion to emphasize his point. "As if I would ever give the likes of her a second of my day."

"Then what?"

"Then her ego inflates! After all, it's not every day that a man, especially a Malfoy, would come up to you and throw compliments at you now, is it? Bimbos like Brown would easily be swept off their feet. There are two things you need to have to get girls like her to spread their legs – money slash status and a mouth full of compliments. Give her even just a minute of your time, fill her up with compliments, then by the end of the night you'll be filling _her_ up."

"What makes you think she's that kind of girl?"

"Oh come on Blaise! You're the one who did the background check on Brown! Or did you forget you were the one who actually handed me that file?"

Blaise chuckled. "I know. Just checking if you actually read the entire thing."

Raising an eyebrow, Malfoy scoffed. "I'm wounded that you would think I would plot out such an elaborate plan without burying my nose into every single detail. I could recite all the names of the men she slept with, in order. Along with their annual financial revenues if you still aren't convinced."

Blaise chuckled. "I believe you! I believe you!" A bruised Malfoy ego was certainly troublesome to deal with. "What if she won't fall for it?"

Malfoy smirked. "She will."

"I said _IF _she won't Draco, what's your contingency plan?"

"She _will_." Malfoy insisted. "There's no need for a contingency plan."

Blaised sighed raising both hands up in surrender. "Whatever you say." There was no point in arguing with a man with an ego the size of his mansion. "What's in it for Granger if you make Brown your pet?"

Draco looked at Blaise as if his very words were blasphemous to the Malfoy legacy. "Are you seriously asking that question?" He whispered in disbelief, his mouth slightly ajar. "If Granger notices that Brown is into me, that brings me up a level higher into getting her to agree with my proposition! Think about it for even a second. Weasel can't stand me so that's a point for me if Granger wants revenge. If you add up Brown being so blatantly overly infatuated with me, there'd be no more further reason for Granger to refuse my proposal! It'd seem like she's hitting two birds with one stone."

Zabini rolled his eyes. "And you're absolutely sure this cliche plan will actually work?"

Malfoy nodded confidently. "Sometimes the answer to a question is the choice that is most outrageous to many. It's not about being conventional. It's more of innovation. My plan may be cliche, but with the right amount of innovation, this 'cliche' is what will lead me to victory."

Zabini could only sigh in defeat, too tired to argue any further. If Malfoy wanted to make a fool of himself, then who was he to stop the crazy madman? If there was something he knew about Draco, it was that his plans never seemed to fail, no matter how utterly impossible and ludicrous they sounded.

"Suit up Blaise." Malfoy smirked as he downed the rest of his drink. "We're heading out to play."

* * *

><p>End of chapter six!<p>

Thank you for reading! I really enjoy writing this. It makes my head think creatively. A **critical appraisal** would really make my day!


	7. Chapter 7

Malfoy scoffed as he narrowed his eyes at the scene before him. Loud, ear drilling noise, a mesh of bodies grinding in a circular space too small to house more than two hundred people, blinding neon lights flashing at random and the worst of them all, was the temperature and humidity of the room. It felt as if he were standing in the middle of some sort of volcanic crater preparing to erupt.

"What _is_ this place?" Came his usual haughty, aristocratic tone.

"What?" Yelled Blaise in response as he inched his ear closer to the Malfoy heir.

"I said, what is this place?!" Malfoy yelled in irritation. He hated having to repeat himself.

"They call this a 'club'. It's one of the more famous attractions in the Muggle world." Blaise replied yelling with nonchalance, as if unaffected by the overload of sensory stimuli.

"Then what the hell is it doing here?" Malfoy replied, annoyed with having to scream just to get his point across. "Last time I checked we were in the Wizarding world!"

"It's one of the projects of the Muggles relations office of the ministry and the order. It seems both parties believe that the division amongst wizards and humans-"

"Mudbloods and purebloods." Malfoy interjected silently, falling on deaf ears.

"-Can be resolved slowly by allowing wizards and witches to be immersed in the Muggle culture. That way they can understand that although Muggles have no magic, they compensate with other things that are equally astonishing." Blaise finished with a nod. Then, as if reading Draco's mind, he answered the question he was about to ask. "I read about it in the news."

Draco rolled his eyes. Just what was it about the news that fascinated Blaise so much? He let out a sigh. Either way Blaise's pot full of information was useful to him in more ways than one.

"How are we supposed to find Brown in all this?" Zabini spoke close to Malfoy's heir to avoid any possible risks of being overheard.

Malfoy, being tired of yelling, simply tilted his head towards the bar and began to walk away. He heard Blaise yell something akin to 'not again, mate' but he chose to ignore him. He needed to rethink his entire plan, given that the setting wasn't exactly as he envisioned it.

Sitting on one of the empty stools, he motioned for the bartender to come over. "I'll have two shots of the strongest shit-"

"Butterbeer. We'll have two glasses of butterbeer." Zabini finished.

"What?! Are you kidding me?" Malfoy turned to the bartender once again. "Look, the gay man'll have the butterbeer." He paused to point blatantly at Blaise. "But I'm having whatever strong shit you've got."

The bartender chuckled and nodded in understanding as he went on his way to prepare the drinks. Bliase openly glared at the Malfoy heir, shaking his head in dismay. He could really be an ass when he wanted to. "You know, if you drink too much, it'll be more difficult-"

Malfoy scoffed. "I think a can handle a few shots of whiskey Zabini."

"Whatever you say. I won't be the one paying for it anyway if you mess up."

"I won't. Just stick to the plan." Malfoy whispered authoritatively. "Expect that everything we do tonight will be documented. That's why you have to do exactly what I told you to, then improvise and adapt as needed. Understand?"

Blaise could only sigh and nod. He couldn't believe he got caught up in this mess.

* * *

><p><em>(Flashback)<em>

"_Now I want you to reiterate everything I told you." Malfoy commanded. He stared at Blaise's incredulous expression impassively. "Well come on!"_

"_You're bloody crazy if you think I'll do any of that!"_

"_What? I'm just asking you to do something simple!"_

"_Simple!? Look mate. I'm not as convincing an actor as you. I can't do it." Blaise stated with finality._

"_All I'm asking you to do is to act like the 'good friend' that you are and pretend to try and fix me up with any woman you seem fit! You know? To act as if you're trying to help me get over Granger? Then after I turn down every single one of your offers, you work your magic with Brown and figure out a way to have her flirt with me, since, of course, I can't be the one to approach her. Then, when you're sure Skeeter's got a pretty good look at us, a few minutes after, you come up to me, I act like I'm piss drunk, then you say you need to get me home! That's all I'm asking!"_

"_That's ALL you're asking? Are you serious? Do you actually hear yourself? How am I even supposed to get Brown to flirt with you?!" Blaise was flailing his arms around in annoyance._

"_Tell her I said she's hot or something! Like I said she's a sucker for compliments! Oh come on, Blaise! Don't think I haven't heard stories about you back at Hogwarts. The ladies say you were quite the charming persuader." Malfoy teased as he winked suggestively at his best friend._

"_I don't know what you're talking about." Blaise replied with innocence interlaced with annoyance._

"_You're record practically rivals mine!"_

_Zabini scoffed with disgust. "Don't compare me with the likes of you."_

_Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Most men would consider that a compliment. But don't worry mate, there's no competition."_

"_Look I don't care about any of this! I told you. I. Can't. Do it."_

"_You're a Slytherin think of something!" Malfoy replied with irritation. "I can't come up with a plan unless I see the exact situation. The setting is too unpredictable. Neither of us have even been there! If I come up with a plan and it turns out inapplicable, then what? That's why I'm asking you to think of something. Improvise. Adapt." Malfoy finished with a sigh. "I believe in you enough that I'd leave that part for you to handle."_

_Blaise closed his eyes to calm himself. Malfoy was doing it again. He always resorted to this whenever he couldn't get his way. Blaise knew exactly what was coming next._

"_I asked you to help me because, believe it or not, you're actually pretty reliable. You get the job done no matter how much you complain. You know I don't have anyone else who can do this for me. If it's not you I won't be entirely at ease. You're the only one I can trust with this."_

_And there it was – the 'trust' card. Bliase clicked his tongue. Malfoy always used it to get his way. Much to Zabini's annoyance, it always seemed to work on him._

_After a few minutes of since, Blaise let out a defeated sigh. "Merlin! Fine! Bloody hell."_

_Malfoy grinned triumphantly. His earlier melancholic demeanor faded faster than the shot of whiskey he was downing. "I knew you'd see it my way!"_

_Blaise could only stare tiredly as the Malfoy heir began to discuss the finer details of his plan._

_(End of flashback)_

* * *

><p>Blaise watched in awe as Malfoy turned down every single woman he's brought to him for almost an hour now. Even the busty ones who were so willing to please! Now that was definitely something you didn't see every day. Blaise shook in head in amusement as Draco untangled himself once again from a group of squealing blondes who looked like they were practically ready to rape him.<p>

Blaise really didn't have to do anything after inviting the first few girls. News about Malfoy's arrival spread like wildfire and Blaise simply sat by the comfort of the bar enjoying the female population assault his self-proclaimed best friend. Glancing around the crowded club, he grinned when he saw Rita Skeeter trying her best to be inconspicuous in the background, all the while taking shots with a concealed camera. Chuckling to himself, he turned around to glance at the Malfoy heir only to be met by a death glare.

Assuming an innocent look, Blaise mouthed the word 'what', which only seemed to anger the suffocating Malfoy heir even more.

Chuckling a bit more, Blaise put down his drink and headed towards Malfoy. It was time to put him out of his misery and execute phase two of the plan. He's got a pretty good layout of the area. He knew exactly where Brown was situated, as well as the looks she's been throwing over at the table where Malfoy was being assaulted in.

Clearing his throat, Blaise gently pushed pass the ladies fawning over the Slytherin prince. "Ok ladies, I think he's had enough for the night." Blaise rolled his eyes at the disgruntled protests from the adoring female fans. "Come on mate." He added as he hoisted Malfoy up into a standing position. Blaise apologized to the women as Draco began to stalk off to bar area, but not before whispering 'I'll Crucio your ass when this is over'. Blaise couldn't help but chuckle at his friend's pathetic attempt at a threat.

* * *

><p>Malfoy flopped unceremoniously one of the bar stools as he let out an exasperated sigh. "Women!"<p>

Blaise could only chuckle. "I never thought I'd live to see the day where you'd turn down every possible type of woman who was practically ready to blow you, even without your consent!"

Malfoy rolled his eyes at his friend's crass statement before replying in a whisper. "If I had no other agenda this evening, I would have loved to have those women blow me."

Blaise shook his head in disbelief and amusement.

"And what the hell took you so long? I said come fetch me after an hour! You left me with those predators for two and a half!" Malfoy whined as he flailed his arms around to emphasize his point.

"Sorry mate. I guess I lost track of time." Blaise replied with a fake innocent tone. "Besides, I thought you liked being surrounded by a crowd of women."

"Again. It would have been fine if not for our agenda this evening. Or have you forgotten? You just cost us half of our time for phase two!"

"But you looked so comfortable lodged between the breasts-"

"Enough. Your enjoyment is getting way out of hand." Blaise laughed out loud at the accusatory glare Malfoy aimed at him. "Time for phase two."

Blaise sighed and nodded. "I see her out on the dance floor right now. And guess what? I heard an interesting piece of information while you were out there being harassed."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow in inquiry, deciding to ignore the latter part of Blaise's statement.

"It seems there's been trouble in paradise." Blaise began as he downed the rest of his drink. "When she came over here to buy a drink earlier, she was chatting with a friend of hers about how stuck up Weasley was and how he would absolutely prohibit her to go out to places like these." Malfoy scoffed in amusement. "They haven't talked for two days now. And to quote Brown's statement, _'I just feel like fucking some random guy tonight just to piss him off'_." Blaise chuckled at the smirk Malfoy gave him.

"Merlin must really love me." Draco replied as he chuckled to himself. "This would be a _whole _lot easier than I thought." Turning around to watch Brown grind her hips suggestively on the dance floor, Malfoy smirked. When he saw Brown catch him eying her, she gave him a suggestive smirk and an even more suggestive hip grind. Blaise couldn't help but snicker at the sight as he stood up to _'head to the loo'_.

Malfoy could only sigh at her pathetic attempt, but nonetheless continued to acknowledge it. Before he knew it, Brown was making her way over to him. Downing the rest of his drink, Malfoy smirked ever so slightly in encouragement, all the while maintaining eye contact with his prey. _"Never thought I'd be hitting two of the Golden Trio with just one slut."_

* * *

><p>A loud knock echoed throughout the expanse of Malfoy's room much to his annoyance. Rolling over on his stomach, he grabbed a pillow and placed it over his head to block out the incessant knock on his door.<p>

"Fuck off!" he replied in annoyance, the dull pounding in his head increasing in intensity as the knock grew even louder. Grasping around for his wand, he decided that he would Crucio anyone who stood behind that door, except, of course, for his mother.

Flipping out of bed, Draco let out a feral growl of anger at being disturbed so early in the morning. Not minding that he was only in his black silk pajama pants, he headed to the door with vehemence. "Whoever the bloody hell is out there I suggest you leave now or-"

He was greeted by a paper shoved in front of his face the moment he forced his door open. Pushing it away with his free hand, he pointed the wand at the idiot who had the balls to disturb his much needed sleep.

"Bloody hell! The fuck are you doing here so early Zabini?!"

Blaise only shrugged. "I figured you'd want to see today's newspaper more than anyone."

Realizing that the paper he shoved away was, indeed, the entertainment section of the morning news, Malfoy bent down to pick it up only to raise his eye at the front page._ Malfoy heir partying his sorrows away._

He smirked at the picture of his annoyed face among a crowd of beautiful women, as well as his apathetic look towards a suggestively smirking Brown who pressed herself up to his front as he sat on one of the bar stools. Perfect.

"I have to hand it to Skeeter. She thinks the same way you do." Blaise added as he chuckled.

Malfoy ignored his friend's comment as he skimmed through the article smirking. All the elements were mentioned perfectly – Granger, Weasel, Brown and even Pothead. The article practically spiraled from, rejection to pity to infidelity to jealously and even regret. He could practically hug Skeeter. She did his plan so much justice and performed even more than he expected of her. Draco thanked the heavens Skeeter had something against the Golden Trio. She would have been one formidable enemy, even for him.

"Again. Never thought I'd say this but another one of your incredulous plans _seemed_ to have worked." Blaise added as he let out an exasperated sigh.

Smirking, Draco folded the paper and released it from his hold, instructing it to float neatly onto a chair. "Now for the next move."

Blaise could only look at him incredulously. "Now?"

Malfoy opened the door to his bathroom before throwing a triumphant glance over to Zabini. "Yes, now!"

* * *

><p>Blaise eyed the floor they were in – the eighth. Was it just him or did the elevator move faster than usual? Weren't they just at the second floor awhile back? Since when were they nearing the tenth? Why weren't they stopping on any floor? Didn't anyone need to use the lift?<p>

Blaise let out a silent, shaky breath. His eyes shifted from the moving floor indicator of the elevator, to his fidgeting silhouette reflected on the steel door, then finally to his indifferent companion.

"I know I've said it before. Several times in fact. But this time I'm _really_ sure mate. This is a bad idea. A very_ very _bad one." Blaise kept his gaze locked on Malfoy, who was busy eliminating imaginary creases on his otherwise perfect three-piece suit.

"Draco." Came Blaise's commanding tone. He hated being ignored.

"Look, mate." Malfoy began. "You said it yourself. You've told me several times that my ideas are _absolutely ludicrous_. But how many times have I actually failed? None. So there you have it."

"I know I've said it! But this is just going way out of line! What? You're just gonna get in there and offer yourself up on a silver platter? This is suicide!"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. Blaise always did have a tendency of exaggerating things. But then again he was always worrying too much about anything and everything. "Blaise. How many times do I have to say it? I'm just going to pass by the Auror's floor, pretend I wish to have a meeting with Potter to inquire about the results of their so-called _investigation_ on my Manor, then _covertly_ provoke weasel to a fight. After all, he'd be an idiot to not want a piece of me after what the news this morning just published." Malfoy couldn't help but smirk at the idea of a flustered weasel.

"Uh-huh. Oh and you forgot that part about my having to clean your insides off the floor! Have you gone mad?! And I mean _really_ mad?!" Blaise was turning a bright shade of red. It was an amusing sight making it even more difficult for Malfoy to take the entire situation seriously. Suddenly, his amused looked swiftly turned into an incredulous one.

"Wait. Are you worried I won't be able to take on _Weasley_?! Is that it?!"

Blaise sighed in frustration. "It has nothing to do with Weasley, you idiot! You're going to enter a floor full of _Aurors_! Or did you _forget_?! You as much as disarm Weasley and you'll be having dozens of them on your ass in an instant! You'll be in much deeper trouble than you began with!"

"Who said anything about attacking?" Malfoy replied nonchalantly as if they were just talking about the weather.

"What?!"

"Of course I won't fight back! Or have you completely missed the point of this crusade?"

Blaise could only look on with incredulity and exhaustion. What in the bloody hell was his best friend thinking?

"If weasel attacks me, the other Aurors will no doubt stop him. They can't have a scandal in their hands now, can they? So he gets one shot at me. _One_. And that's all I need." Malfoy smirked. "That one little shot will be published in big, bold letters in tonight's news and oh it would be a joy to read indeed!"

"Who cares if it's just one shot? He could kill you in one shot!"

Malfoy glared at Zabini. "He wouldn't use _that_. He's not _that_ big of an idiot."

"You're _not_ getting my point." Blaise exhaled slowly in exasperation. "It could be any kind of spell. Even a curse for all we know!"

"And that's why you're here. If it's an injury, you can help me heal it. If it's some sort of spell, then you can reverse it. If it's a dark curse, you can counter it." Malfoy stated indifferently. "I know almost every possible dark curse there is. There's absolutely _nothing_ more dangerous than those. I doubt the weasel would use _any_ of those, let alone _know_ any of those."

Zabini brought his wand out all of a sudden and stilled the elevator.

"Blaise what in the bloody hell-"

Malfoy was silenced by Blaise's penetrating gaze. "Listen Malfoy. I know this all seems like a game to you. But you could seriously get injured. I don't know about you, but I don't want to be the one standing there beside you while you get potentially mortally injured. And I don't want to be the one your mother blames when she visits you unconscious at St. Mungos."

Malfoy scoffed. "I won't-"

"So here's what's going to happen." Blaise immediately cut him off. "The moment I sense that weasel is on to you, or heck even Potter, despite the probability of that being low, then I'll deflect the attack. Your much awaited story would just have to wait."

Malfoy could only stare in bewilderment. He was speechless.

"What?" Blaise asked in annoyance, obviously unnerved by the way Malfoy was looking at him.

"I didn't know you cared for me that much." Malfoy replied softly, blinking his eye repeatedly, slightly incredulous at what he had heard.

Blaise looked away and exhaled exasperatedly. "Draco, you know I see you as family."

"Are you in love with me?"

Blaise choked himself with his own spit at the absurdity of the question.

"What? It's a valid question!" Malfoy added, his teasing tone and smug demeanor back in place.

"Bloody _fucking _hell!" Blaise replied in annoyance. Trust Malfoy to always twist serious sentimental situations into his own sick, repulsive ones.

"I won't hate you if you're gay!" Malfoy continued his teasing as he chuckled to himself. "I definitely don't swing that way but hey, I just want you to know I support you all the way!"

Blaise huffed in irritation as he swung his wand in annoyance to move the elevator once more. "I'm not fucking gay you sick idiot! You know what? Screw worrying about you! You can die for all I care!"

Malfoy held a hand to his heart. "That really wounds me, you know?"

Blaise silently thanked the stars at the sound of the bell and the opening of the elevator door. Walking out swiftly, he ignored Malfoy's further mocking.

"And here I thought you really cared about me!"

Malfoy chuckled at Blaise's retreating back. Walking out of the elevator, he couldn't help but smile a little to himself. What exactly did he do to deserve such a loyal friend like Blaise?

* * *

><p>End of chapter seven! Thank you for reading! A review would be very much appreciated. I'm trying my best to start writing again. I will do my best to update this, and all my stories, as soon as I can. I promise I'm not giving up on any of them! I just have a hard time writing since I have so many things going on in my life. I really apologize to those who are really avidly waiting for me to update, not just in this story, but in my other ones as well. Thank you for not wishing harm on me despite my incompetence! Thank you again!<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

_Malfoy_

_As incredulous as this may seem, I wish to ask if there was a chance we can discuss your 'proposition' sometime this week? Preferably after work hours and away from the scrutiny of the public. Merlin knows how much you love publicity._

_P.S. This letter does not, in any way, express consent to participate in your proposal._

_Granger_

* * *

><p>Blaise could only stare incredulously at the piece of parchment in his hands. His gaze shifted slowly from Malfoy's smug form to the perfect handwriting elegantly strewn on the beige stationery.<p>

"Well?" Malfoy began, triumph evident in every fiber of his being. "Go ahead. Admit it."

"I'm not even sure I understand how this is all happening right now." Blaise replied, his gaze still transfixed on the feminine parchment. How in the bloody hell did he get Granger to even _consider_ his proposal when he hasn't even as much as spoken to her in the last couple of weeks?

"How?" Blaise asked in confusion and annoyance as he stared in disbelief at the Slytherin prince.

"How, you ask?" Malfoy chuckled. "_That_, my dear friend, is what I call talent."

"How in _bloody Merlin_ did you manage this?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Malfoy mocked as he made his way to his favorite spot in the dimly lit study room – the liquor table.

"Draco." Came Blaise's serious tone as he raised the parchment up towards Malfoy's direction, scoffing at his friend's excessive alcohol intake. "Seriously. How?"

Sighing in content after taking a sip from his glass of fire whiskey, Malfoy sat himself on the chair opposite Blaise. "Start with the ruckus we caused two weeks ago."

Blaise sighed. How could he forget that day?

* * *

><p><em>(Flashback)<em>

_Aurors struggled to keep Ron a good distance away from the injured Malfoy. "You fucking stay away from my girl you bloody ferret!"_

_Blaise stood immobile for a few more moments before turning to his injured friend half-lying on the floor with his hand to his nose. Now that was something he didn't expect. He was ready for anything magical but a physical attack definitely caught him off guard. "You okay mate?" Kneeling down beside Malfoy, Blaise took out his wand to help heal his broken nose._

"_Fine. Just peachy." Came Malfoy's silent but livid tone. Blaise could see that it was taking every single ounce of self-control Malfoy had not to just whip his wand out and throw an unforgivable right at Weasley._

_Cursing under his breath, Malfoy gritted his teeth hard before biting his tongue to prevent himself from throwing back a scathing insult._

"_What's going on here?"_

_Malfoy rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Great. Saint Potter, here to the rescue." He whispered to Blaise who only scoffed silently as he worked to heal Malfoy's broken nose. "I have to admit. He got you good mate." Blaise teased, earning him a glare from the Slytherin prince. "Shut the bloody hell up." Malfoy's reply only made Blaise snicker in further amusement._

_Malfoy watched from the corner of his eye as Harry was informed by another Auror of the situation. Not soon after, Harry moved over the furious Weasley, trying his best to calm him down from his stream of angry fits. After what seemed like hours of ridiculous comforting from the Golden boy, Ron slowly begun to regain his composure._

_Giving Malfoy one more look of disdain, Ron pointed a threatening finger at him. "I swear if you try anything with her again I'll make sure you'll live to regret it."_

_Malfoy responded with an indifferent, bored look, which only seemed to rattle the redhead even further. Realizing this, Harry directed Ron towards the elevator together with two other Aurors. After a few more minutes of talking, Ron finally boarded the elevator, all the while shooting glares at Malfoy._

"_Done." Zabini put his wand back in his pocket and held a hand out for Malfoy._

_Ignoring the offer, Malfoy stood up independently, brushing the invisible dirt off his expensive suit. "See?" He whispered, a well-placed surreptitious smirk on his face. "Told you everything would turn out fine."_

_Blaise could only roll his eyes and sigh as he watched Potter make his way towards them._

_(End of flashback)_

* * *

><p>"What about it?" Blaise replied with an eyebrow raised in inquiry. "If I remember correctly, that particular stint placed you in the front page of the papers."<p>

Malfoy nodded in affirmation. "After that I requested for weasel's schedule specifically, did I not?"

"You asked for his scheduled restaurant or bistro outings with his family, preferably with the female members." Zabini clarified.

Again Malfoy nodded, this time with a sinister smirk. "Can you guess what I did with that information?"

Zabini exhaled in exasperation. "Draco, just tell me mate. Seriously." He was getting tired of talking. He wanted answers and Malfoy was incredibly keen on keeping him on the edge.

Malfoy chuckled at Zabini's obvious discomfort at the delay of gratification. "I decided to take my mom out early this week. After all, it's been quite a while since we last spent time together. She went shopping. Nothing much, just the occasional dress and fine jewelry. Then we went for dinner at this restaurant-"

"Damn it mate you're killing me!" Blaise yelled in annoyance. Why the hell Malfoy was giving him a recount of his day out with his mother was beyond him.

Chuckling, Malfoy took another swing of his drink, hiding the smirk behind the fire colored glass. "The restaurant I took her just _happened_ to be the same restaurant weasel was dining in that evening."

Now _that_ peeked Blaise's interest.

"I was honestly surprised he picked such a fine restaurant, given _his_ upbringing. The weaselette was there with him, his mom was too. Of course I knew that beforehand thanks to _your_ excellent work." Malfoy raised his glass in a salute to Zabini. "So I took it upon myself to pick a table strategically positioned near them, but not obvious enough to seem as if I planned it all. I got our table to face a different direction, and our reservation half an hour earlier than theirs."

"Good consideration." Blaise nodded. "And?"

"I've been purposefully avoiding my mother for weeks prior to our dinner. I felt it would be better to keep her in the dark as her acting would be more genuine and believable if I do so." Giving Blaise a meaningful glance, Malfoy began to toy with his fire whiskey, twirling his glass around, allowing the liquid to dance within the glass like trapped flames.

Raising an eyebrow at Mafoy's statement, Blaise folded his arms on his chest and leaned back on the plush red velvet sofa. "Let me guess. You discussed weeks' worth of events circling around in the papers with your mother, and had every intention of letting the Weasleys overhear."

Malfoy smirked. "You're finally keeping up."

Blaise scoffed in amusement and disbelief.

Malfoy stood up in enthusiasm and began to wave his arms to emphasize his point. "You should have been there! Weasel was absolutely livid! I could see his ridiculous, horrid face from the glass right across our table! You have no idea how many times the weaselette and his mother tried to restrain him from marching over to us! Fucking hilarious!"

Shaking his head in disbelief, Blaise let out a tired sigh. "So what _exactly_ did you and your mother talk about?"

Sitting back down, Malfoy continued to twirl his glass of fire whiskey around, as if entranced by the elegant dancing flames, before taking a sip. "She asked all the right questions. It was as if was in on it all along."

Zabini nodded to signal Malfoy to continue as he stood up and poured himself a drink as well.

"First she asked about my sincerity with Granger, which of course is to be interpreted as the sincerity of whether I would _go through_ with the plan, and not my sincerity with _actually_ dating her." Malfoy chuckled as he recalled how the Weasley's table quieted down and an indescribable tension filled them. "Of course I told my mother I was serious about Granger and that I would see it to the end no matter what."

Malfoy handed his empty glass over to Zabini. Hesitating for a while, Blaise let out a defeated sigh and refilled it with fire whiskey.

"Then my mother asked about the weasel scandal and the suggestive photos with Brown. Of course I flat out denied I had any form of relationship with the whore! I simply said she approached me and offered me a one-night stand, to which I _refused_. I even pointed out how I absolutely _indifferent_ I was in the pictures, and how I didn't even fight back weasel when he hit me. You should have seen the grip both female Weasleys had on the weasel!"

Zabini handed Malfoy back his half-filled glass and offered a toast, to which Malfoy gladly reciprocated.

"So how'd you get to Granger?" Zabini finally asked.

Malfoy smirked. "That's the best part." He paused, as if savoring some sort of cosmic moment no other human could possibly understand. "I didn't."

Zabini's face fell. "I beg your pardon?"

"I _said_, I _didn't_."

"Then how-"

"Weasel got to Granger." Malfoy's sinister smirk was back.

Blaise's mouth fell open in confusion. "What do you _mean_ Weasley got to Granger?"

"If there is one thing you can count on in the Golden Trio, it's their friendship – their absurd need to protect each other from almost anything and everything _Voldemort_ related."

Blaise felt an involuntary shudder course through his spine at Malfoy's nonchalant use of the name. But it didn't go unnoticed to him the involuntary swallow Malfoy tried to hide, as well as the slight shaking of his hand as he held his drink to his mouth.

"I theorized that despite being in awful terms, Weasley would _definitely_ try to warn Granger about me. So I take it both of them had a talk sometime this week that absolutely pissed Granger off enough to actually consider my offer." Malfoy chuckled to himself. Everything seemed to be playing right in his hand.

Zabini shook his head incredulously. "How do you even know that?"

"I factored their personalities into the equation. You know things by reading people – subtle gestures, body language, choice of words, clothing, hairstyle. I _knew_ Weasley would go to Granger if he hears anything that would serve as a threat to her, especially if it concerned_me_. I _also_ knew that formulating _coherent sentences_ isn't exactly Weasley's strong point. Then again, does he even have one aside from the fact that he's a pureblood? And a poor example at that." Malfoy paused to scrunch up his face in disgust.

Blaise could only shrug nonchalantly as he took a sip of his own drink.

"So I'm guessing the conversation went a little like this – Weasley simply telling Granger to stay the hell away from me and that was that. Granger, being her stubborn, stuck-up self would, of course, retaliate to being bossed around by a man who supposedly _broke_ her heart. Then the conversation would shift from me to their failed relationship, which would include a string of hurtful words and blunt expressions of faults they saw in each other. Following this would be a string of curses, smashing of breakable items and probably a _whole_ lot of waterworks. Ending their rendezvous would most likely be the slamming of doors, sudden apparitions or the good old fashion walk outs, leaving Granger even more vengeful than ever before. Seeking to review all the options in her disposal, she inevitably finds my proposal_incredibly_ irresistible." Raising his glass once more for a salute, Malfoy downed his drink in one gulp.

"So that's it?" Blaise scoffed. "You just had to piss of Weasley and Granger was yours?"

"You're forgetting the long and arduous process we had to go through to get to this point."

"Bloody hell!" Blaise exclaimed in disbelief and slight amusement. "I hate to admit it mate but you're one serious sinister _mind fucker_! Remind me to never get on your bad side. And if I ever did anything to piss you off, I apologize."

Malfoy laughed out loud. "Don't worry. I wouldn't use my _serious sinister mind fucker_ skills on you. I'd lose a useful lackey!" This earned him a pillow on the face. "Pillow fights Blaise? Seriously? You know, if you really _are_ gay you can come out anytime. I won't judge!" This earned him an empty crystal glass aimed right at his face.

Clutching the glass a few inches from his nose, Malfoy glared at Zabini. "Hey! This would have really hurt!"

"Oh would it?" Blaise replied with a sarcastic concerned look. "That was not my intention at all!"

Malfoy put down both glasses on the table and scoffed. A comfortable silence enveloped them both. Blaise felt a weird calming sensation wash over him when he finally heard that Granger was willing to consider Malfoy's offer. As for why, he had no idea. Maybe because it felt like the worst was over, or so he thought. All he knew now is that he would definitely enjoy the upcoming Gryffindor-Slytherin showdown slash death match. No doubt about it.

"So, when are you and Granger going to meet?"

Malfoy smirked as he envisioned his plan for the long awaited meeting with the Muggleborn bane of his existence. "Three nights from now."

* * *

><p>Hermione stared at the expensive pearl-colored parchment in her hands, still incredulous of what she had gotten herself into.<p>

_Granger_

_I'm glad you're finally starting to consider my proposition. If you don't mind, I would like to discuss things further with you in my temporary settlement, being that we can't exactly be seen in public, as you demanded._

_Eight o'clock sharp, three days from now would be perfect. I will be opening the floo for you at the said time._

_Malfoy_

Hermione didn't know what surprised her more, his immediate reply, or his rather _civil_ manner. Maybe it was both. She expected him to brag about her finally needing his help, or heck, just brag about anything period. A normal reply from Malfoy just seemed… _wrong._

Putting down the note on her bedside table, Hermione placed her face in her hands, as if hiding it would wash away the suffocating embarrassment she was feeling. She couldn't believe what she'd done! Setting up a meeting with Malfoy? Had she really gone mad? Or was she just that desperate?

Sure when she wrote down that note it felt every bit rational and sane. But the moment she watched her owl fly away a good distance, she felt nothing but dread and regret. She felt dirty, like she'd fallen lower than she ever did in her life.

But could she really blame her impetuous judgment? She was angry, hurt, betrayed. But more so, she was _vengeful_. She prided herself in being the bigger person – not wanting revenge, not desperately trying to get even. She thought letting everything be and moving on with her life was the better choice. Unfortunately, she was wrong. All she's been doing was running away from a problem she wished would solve itself. She was avoiding a major part of her life just so she could, what? Live in temporary bliss and ignorance? Whatever happened to the brave young girl who stood unfazed amidst the middle of a war with the greatest evil the world has ever known?

"_You were broken Hermione! Too broken that even I couldn't even begin to understand where and how to start fixing you!"_

Hermione let out an angry whimper at the hurtful words Ron threw at her. How could he? After everything he put her through, he had to nerve to show his face to her again and tell her things about herself like he knew her better than anyone else ever did?

* * *

><p><em>(Flashback)<em>

"_Hermione."_

_Hermione froze at the voice that greeted her, almost dropping the book she was holding to the floor. Taking a deep breath and schooling her features into one of indifference, Hermione turned around to face her unwanted visitor. "Ron." Came her professional Healer's tone._

"_I see you're just about to head home." Ron's tone was uncertain but desperately trying to sound casual. He was looking anywhere except her. "Nice office you got here."_

_Ignoring the need for small talk, Hermione turned back to finish packing her things. "Anything I can do for you?"_

"_Can… Can we talk?"_

_Turning around to raise a perfect eyebrow, Hermione continued to wear an indifferent look. "We're talking now."_

"_N-No… No. I mean… I guess we are talking now, but… What I want to say is that… Well I-."_

_Letting out an impatient sigh, Hermione folded her arms in front of her chest. "Ron. I'm quite busy right now. So if there's something you need to say, just say it."_

"_I want to talk about us."_

_Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. After two years, THIS was the time he chose to talk about THEM? "Ron." Hermione began, her tone exhausted and reprimanding, as if she was talking to a stubborn patient who refused to listen to her advice. "I think two years of no personal explanation from you is more than enough to inform me that closure is a thing that will never happen between us."_

"_Then at least give me a chance to-"_

"_I hope you understand my lack of regard for anything you wish to tell me." Hermione interjected, her gaze hard and accusing. "I think the part where you cheated and the part where you chose to end our relationship through the morning papers was more than enough of an eye-opener for me."_

_Hermione watched with a silent sick amusement as Ron's face showed uninhibited embarrassment and anger. She watched with curiosity as Ron tried to take in deep calming breaths. He wasn't going to counter back? That was a first._

"_I know what I did. And I know words will never be enough to tell you how much I regret what I did and-"_

"_Which one?" Came Hermione's bored tone._

"_What?" Ron could only look on with annoyance at being interrupted yet again._

"_Regret which one? The cheating? Or the publicized break up?"_

_Ron was gritting his teeth now. "Both."_

_Hermione looked away. His reply was forced, insincere. She knew where he was headed and she didn't want to hear any of it._

_Taking in another deep breath, Ron continued to talk when he realized he wouldn't be silenced once again. "I know it's too late. But I want to tell you I'm sorry. For everything. I know you didn't deserve any of it. I know it was my entire fault. I can't blame you for being angry with me. Hell, I'm angry with me! I just, don't want this to keep going! I don't want our friendship ending because of something so trivial."_

_Hermione couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh. "Trivial?" She repeated incredulous._

_Realizing the mistake he made, Ron hurriedly tried to correct himself. "W-When I said trivial, I mean it in relation to everything we've been through – Hogwarts, the war, Voldemort. It just fails in comparison to every other obstacle we've passed!"_

_Hermione looked Ron straight in the eyes, the accusation never leaving her gaze. "And you expect me to just... forgive you? Well, after all, it took you just what? TWO years to finally clear up something so TRIVIAL?! That our relationship was what? Worth TWO years of NO explanation whatsoever? That everything we had was worth giving up over some WHORE you fucked back at Hogwarts?!"_

_Ron was beyond livid at this point. "Call her what you want but she was more of a girlfriend to me that you ever were!"_

_Hermione scoffed at this. "Oh? So it's my fault now?"_

"_After the war I thought we could finally be happy together! But everything you did, you did to push me away!" Ron began walking around the room, swaying his hands to emphasize every point he made. "All those days you made up ridiculous excuses to not be with me! All those times you denied talking to me! 'Mione you fucking woke up screaming in the middle of the night yet you'd refuse to tell me anything about it! Those nights you refused to share my bed-"_

"_Oh well I'm SORRY for not being in the mood to FUCK you when I was too busy trying to piece myself back together after the war!" Hermione screamed in reply._

"_I wanted to help you! I made it absolutely clear that I was there if you needed me!" Ron's voice broke. "I… I loved you Hermione. You have no idea how much I did. But every time I showed you, you just didn't… You didn't care."_

_Hermione was crying now. She didn't even realize when she did but her face was a mess filled with years' worth of hurt and bottle up tears._

"_Everyone was starting to find their place. But you and I... We just never seemed to fit perfectly. I just felt so lonely."_

"_So you cheated." Came Hermione's accusatory tone once more as she furiously tried to wipe away her overflowing tears. "After all, it's better to fuck a mindless whore than try to decode a madwoman, right?"_

"_You were broken Hermione! Too broken that even I couldn't even begin to understand where and how to start fixing you!"_

"_So you just gave up on me?! Is that it?!"_

"_I know you were broken because of the war! But did it ever occur to you that maybe I was too?"_

_Hermione looked away. She didn't want to hear any more of this. "Why now?"_

_Ron could only look on in exasperation and confusion. "What do you mean why now?"_

"_Why now, after two years? Why try to fix everything now? What changed?"_

"_I told you I don't want our friendship-"_

"_Bull. Shit." Hermione cut him off. "I refuse to believe that this has anything to do with wanting to be friends again!"_

_Ron let out an irritated sigh. "Believe it or not Hermione I still care about you. I don't want to see you get hurt."_

"_Too late for that now, is it?" Came Hermione's mocking tone. "You already did such a great job at it."_

"_I said I was sorry!"_

"_Yes, Ron. And if Voldemort ever said sorry for the things he's done, we'd just forgive him and we'd all live happy ever after!"_

"_You had no idea what I was going through! If it makes you happy to blame every little thing one me, then by all means, do so! But I won't give up my obligation as your friend. I won't stop trying to get you out of harm's way."_

_That definitely got Hermione's interest. Raising an eyebrow, Hermione folded her arms in front of her chest once again. "And just what is that supposed to mean?"_

_Sighing, Ron finally took a seat in one of the black leather couches in Hermione's office. Running a hand through his hair, he looked intensely at the glass coffee table, as if deep in thought. "I overheard Malfoy and his mother talk about you."_

_Hermione felt her mouth fall open in shock._

"_They were… talking about whether Malfoy was serious about you, or something like that." Ron paused, doing nothing to conceal the obvious feeling of disgust evident in his face. "He said he was and that he would stop at nothing to get you."_

_Hermione regained her composure and donned a mask of indifference. "And?"_

"_And?! Can't you see he's up to something? I don't know what he's got planned but he's involving you in it and that can't be good!"_

"_As much as I am… touched with your concern." Began Hermione's sarcastic tone. "I think I am more than capable of deciding who I date and who I chose not to."_

_Ron replied with a scandalized look. "But this is Malfoy! You can't seriously believe he'd want to date you!" Shutting his mouth upon realizing his mistake Ron began stuttering out apologies. "I-I mean, of course a lot of guys would want to d-date you and all. But this is Malfoy! So you can't just trust his word for it!"_

_Hermione scoffed in annoyance. "Yes. And you are you. And I can't exactly trust your words either now, can I?"_

"_I can't believe this!" Ron was incredulous. "I'm warning you about MALFOY. How can you NOT trust my word for it?"_

_Chuckling bitterly to herself, Hermione grabbed her things and prepared for her leave. "So this was what all this was about."_

_Ron stood up to indicate that he wasn't finished with the conversation. "What 'what' was about?!"_

_Hermione looked at Ron dead in the eyes. Ron couldn't help but shiver slightly at the cold emptiness of her gaze. Gone were the warm flecks of hazel he had fallen so madly in love with. In front of him was a shell of what was once radiant and pure. He was right. She was too broken. Too scarred. More so than he ever realized._

"_You didn't come here to apologize." Hermione began. "Apologizing just seemed like the better thing to do before delving into what you really came here to talk about – Malfoy."_

_Seeing Ron's pathetic attempts at trying to prove she was wrong, Hermione blinked tiredly and headed to the door. Ron did nothing to stop her, sensing he's already lost the silent battle. "Hermione, please." Pleading was the only thing he found himself able to do._

_Half way out the door, without looking back, Hermione was finally able to say the words she thought she would forever dread to say. "Goodbye, Ronald."_

_After two years, just as the door echoed a resounding shut, Hermione felt she's finally found her closure._

_(End of Flashback)_

* * *

><p>Hermione continued to stare at an empty space, detached from reality. The finality that she and Ron would never get back to the way they were hit her hard. It was only then that she realized all those years she'd been secretly wishing that Ron would get back to his senses and come crawling back to her. And it was only then that she realized begrudgingly that she would have taken him back in a heartbeat.<p>

But that was then. And this is now.

Now she just wanted to hurt him. She wanted him to suffer. She wanted him to feel the years of pain he inflicted on her a hundred times over. She was done playing nice. The silent suffering and martyrdom was doing her no good.

How _dare_ he come back, faking his apology, only to reveal that all he needed her for was to get back at _Malfoy_?

Fighting fire with fire was something she always condoned to be irrational and uncivilized. But she had already taken too much beating. This time, it was her turn to be on the offensive. After all, she didn't acquire the name Golden Girl war hero for nothing.

* * *

><p>Malfoy stared at the Oakwood ceiling as he lay strewn on the large plush red velvet couch of the study. His gaze was detached and empty. He hated this house. He hated this study. He hated the annoying black fur carpets, red velvet sofas, small crystal glass tables, the Oakwood ceiling and furniture, the cheap books stacked on the walls – everything. He wanted to go back home. Despite everything, it was the one thing he could hold onto, the only thing that made him feel normal – a person who's had a happy childhood, ignorantly basking in every luxury life had to offer, a person who once felt loved and secure, a person who once belonged to a family.<p>

The chime of the grandfather clock woke him up from his stupor. It was eight in the evening. The lone house elf would be calling him down for supper any moment now. But he didn't feel like eating. He didn't want to risk having to walk down the thin narrow hallways only to hear his mother try to stifle her cries. Sitting up slowly, his gaze landed on the expensive parchment lodged tightly between his fingers.

_This is to inform you that in a weeks' time, the Ministry will be taking hold of the Malfoys' Gringotts accounts for investigative purposes in relation to He-who-must-not-be-named. It has been proven by thorough examination that He-who-must-not-be-named has utilized the accounts of several of his most loyal followers to house not only his alleged Horcruxes but also to conceal highly hazardous curse objects and priceless stolen ancient artifacts._

_In line with this, a minimum of 90 days probation will be put on the Malfoys' Gringotts accounts for further analysis of their contents, as well as for the study of the legitimacy of their acquisition. This investigation is done in accordance with the laws of Gringotts and will be supervised by the employees of the institution to assure that all matters are handled truthfully and accurately. More details regarding this matter will be given to you in two days' time._

_We apologize for the inconvenience._

Crumpling the paper in his shaking hand, Malfoy roughly threw the parchment at the fire, feeling a sick, misplaced pleasure build up as he watched the elegantly strewn words of lies burn slowly, almost painfully. Turning his head at the knocking sound on his window, Malfoy narrowed his eyes at the cooing owl with yet another message. Obviously it was from Blaise. _Again_.

Standing up in annoyance, Malfoy forcefully pulled the window open only to vehemently grab the note on the owl's leg and tear it to pieces. "Tell your idiotic master that no response to the past seven notes means _I am not in the mood to talk_!"

The owl cooed in fear as it flew hurriedly away from the window.

Malfoy sighed as he threw himself back onto the sofa. The first few notes were more than enough. He didn't really need Blaise to inform him of what was all over the news. He read the fucking parchment. He didn't need words of sympathy or pity. His pride would never allow that. He didn't need anyone's help or support or encouragement. He was Draco _fucking_ Malfoy and he'd be damned before he would let anyone, even the Ministry, get another one over on him.

Turning to his side to face the fireplace once again, Malfoy's gaze landed on yet another parchment on the crystal table. It was beige. That handwriting was something he could recognize anywhere. Sitting up once again, Malfoy grabbed the parchment and reread it once again. He felt an odd jolt of energy hit him.

This was his last resort – a chance to claim it all back. It had to work. He _has_ to make it work. Even if it meant pretending to the world, to Granger, and to himself that he was head over heels in love with the most repulsive woman he's ever known.

* * *

><p>End of chapter eight. Thank you for reading! I just want to inform everyone that I will be doing my best to update this story every month. Thank you for your continued support. A <strong>review<strong> would definitely make this endeavor even more worthwhile, and may even inspire me to update faster! :)


	9. Chapter 9

Draco stared at the dancing flames before shifting his eyes to his watch. It was five minutes to eight. Granger would be here any second. If there was one thing about her that he knew, it was her annoying insistence to be on time. Heck she was always one of the first to arrive in class if she wasn't out doing ridiculous shenanigans with Potter and Weasley. He chuckled. This time was different though and he was willing to bet she'd take her time and arrive exactly as agreed – not a minute to soon, not a minute too late.

Draco shifted his gaze to the cup of fire whiskey that stayed untouched on the flat crystal table. He was itching to down the whole thing down, but he was already five shots up and he would need to keep his temper in check – something he was incapable of when he wasn't sober.

The short annoying chime of the grandfather clock directed Malfoy's gaze to the furnace. It would be turning green any minute now. He smirked as the vibrant red was slowly engulfed by a hypnotizing shade of green. He was entranced for a moment. The wonderful color of Slytherin calming him, giving him an odd sense of power. He felt in control.

"Malfoy." Came Hermione's uncertain tone as she stood a few inches in front of the flame, eying him warily.

Realizing he was staring right through her, Draco let out a cough as he stood up in greeting. He gestured towards a chair with much elegance and manner that Hermione had to blink to ensure that it really was Draco Malfoy in front of her.

"Glad you could make it." Malfoy began. His tone professional but courteous. "Make yourself comfortable."

Hermione eyed the chair skeptically before slowly sitting herself on the edge. Realizing it was safe, she pushed herself back, feeling the plush red velvet chair envelop her in a warm, comfortable embrace. She would have sighed in pleasure if she had different company.

"Would you prefer to have dinner before, during or after the discussion?"

Hermione assumed a professional pose – fingers intertwined, hands neatly on her lap, one foot under the other's heel, back straight, eyes predatory. "I believe it's safe to assume that we can skip the dinner formalities and the small talk and proceed right down to business. After all, I'm sure you wouldn't want to waste your precious time entertaining the likes of _me."_ Hermione smirked mockingly, amused at Malfoy's attempts at being polite.

Nodding, Malfoy remained indifferent, but amicable. "Whatever suits you."

Hermione frowned slightly at this. No violent reaction? No scalding remark? No condemning sneer? No patronizing glance? She narrowed her eyes. Was this what Malfoy was like when he was serious? This couldn't be good. The last time Malfoy was serious he-

Hermione tilted her head slightly to the side. When _was_ the last time he was actually serious?

"Granger." Came the slightly demanding tone, a hint of impatience was notable due to Hermione's lack of regard for the evening's host.

Hermione let out a small sigh of relief at the more familiar tone that reached her ears. The _real_ Draco Malfoy was still in there. She was beginning to think he was some kind of impostor. "Malfoy." She echoed in a nonchalant manner. She smirked slightly in triumph at seeing his eye twitch.

Clearing his throat, Draco donned back his detached, professional demeanor. "Shall we begin?"

Hermione replied with nothing but a penetrating gaze.

Draco raised an eyebrow in inquiry. "Something the matter?"

"I want you to answer one question before I hear your proposition out."

Draco's eyebrows rose slightly in surprise. That was something he certainly didn't expect. Though what she wanted to ask about was lost to him. He tilted his head slightly to side to nod in affirmation. "Seeing as you stated it in a way that invokes no argument, then by all means, go right ahead."

"Why did you tell me your proposal?"

Draco raised a slightly amused eyebrow at this. "I beg your pardon?"

"_Why_, did you tell me, your proposal?" Hermione paused for emphasis, a bit rattled by Malfoy's courteous response. Her sharp gaze never left him. "Why did you risk having your plan exposed? I could have told _everyone_. I could have ruined you for good."

A look of unveiled surprise reached Draco's face for a second before wiping it off completely with a slight smirk. Matching Hermione's penetrating gaze, Draco replied in a low mocking tone. "So why didn't you?"

It was Hermione's turn to allow surprise to befall her. Letting out an impatient sigh, Hermione folder her arms on her chest. "Just answer the question."

Draco tilted his head to the side as he slowly scanned her from head to toe and back. He almost chuckled at the way she tightened her arms around herself in discomfort. "Alright." Draco replied, smirking slightly. "I'll answer your question, but you have to answer one from me as well."

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. "You said you'd answer me just a minute ago. Why provide conditions after I've stated the question?"

"I didn't say 'yes'." Draco replied matter-of-factly but his tone remained in good humor. "I just said 'go ahead'."

Hermione tightened her jaw. Just trust him to be so annoyingly cunning with the use of semantics.

"So you asked yours, now let me ask mine." He began, as he leaned forward placing his forearms on his thighs. The change in posture made his fringe fall further down his eyes, making them look more piercing and menacing.

"Back at St. Mungos. When I took my potions." He paused, taking note of how her eyes widened by a fraction. "Why didn't you tell?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's basic patient-healer confidentiality. I would have been demoted, not to mention _berated_ by every other healer in the Wizarding world. It's _ethics._ Plain and simple as that." She paused, giving him a look of boredom to emphasize her point. "Now answer mine."

Draco shook his head slightly, as if he already expected that answer. "That wasn't what I meant."

Hermione was beginning to feel that familiar surge of annoyance that only one such as _Malfoy_ could elicit. "What do you _mean_ that wasn't what you meant?"

"Not to other _healers_, as it's plain _obvious_ why you haven't." Draco paused with an oh-so familiar look of superiority. Hermione wanted to gauge his eyeballs out.

"Then what in the -"

"Why haven't you told Potter?"

Hermione's look of surprise was so sudden that she was too shocked to even notice the meaning her reaction was giving her away.

"I understand the silence towards _Weasley_. But why Potter as well?"

Draco noted how Hermione swallowed hard and shifted her gaze away from his. He looked on with an emotionless face, still awaiting an answer.

Hermione did her best to compose herself as she stared hard at the plush black fur carpet on the floor. She cursed inwardly. Damn him! He just _had_ to bring in Harry as well. Giving him a scathing look, Hermione replied through gritted teeth.

"I _don't_ want to talk about _Harry_."

Draco nodded, as he smirked inwardly. His theory was right then. He'd have to collect his money from Blaise later. Damn bloody idiot just didn't know when to quit. Shouldn't he have known by now just how accurate Malfoy's predictions could get?

"Too bad." Came Draco's silent but knowing reply. "I guess I won't have to answer your question then."

Hermione gritted her teeth. Him and his stupid manipulations! Just how the hell did he turn the tide on her anyway? She was the one demanding the answers here!

"Shall we proceed to the main discussion then?" Draco added. His tone was back to one of a professional.

Hermione could only nod, her hazel eyes avoiding the steel gray ones that perceptively construed her every move.

* * *

><p>Draco looked on with veiled incredulity and amusement. "You're… <em>blushing<em>?"

Hermione swallowed as she tried to scoff. "I-I am _not_ blushing!" She was avoiding his gaze.

Now it was Malfoy's turn to scoff as he raised an eyebrow in disbelief. He expected her to laugh bitterly or reply with annoyed, indifferent words. He certainly didn't expect her to stutter and _blush_ like some bloody high school girl. All that just because he reiterated to her exaggerated words of praise his robust uncle erroneously conceived? He bit back a sarcastic remark itching to claw its way out of his lips._'Relax Draco.'_

"What? No one's ever told you any of those?" Draco stated indifferently.

Hermione only glared in response, daring him to say another word.

Biting back yet another sarcastic taunt, Draco nodded in understanding and finality. "I hope that answers your question as to _why_ you were the chosen prospect."

Hermione nodded wordlessly, fighting down another blush. How he could remain so uncaring and unshaken despite all those things he just said was lost to her. How in the world could a girl _not_ blush when compliments such as those were said _not_ by people dearest to her, but by someone who had _every_ _reason_ to despise and loathe her to the bone? The words may not have been from him, but it was _his_ voice that relayed it to her.

"Do you have any further questions or would you prefer that I simply relay the details of my proposition, should you come to the decision to participate?"

"Fine. You talk." Hermione managed to reply despite still being disoriented. After all, it wasn't every day that Malfoy would spout words of, dare she say _endearment_, instead of words that impose derogation and promise suffering.

Draco nodded, an air of victory seemed to surround him as he raised his head to begin his declaration. He was back in control and he was loving every minute of it.

"First, let's get a few things clarified." He began. His tone was similar to that of a law enforcer. "In the event that you agree to my proposal, I would like for you to know that I would be willing to listen to any qualms you may have or any conditions you may wish to add."

He noted Hermione's slightly surprised but amused expression. But before she could cut in a sarcastic remark, Malfoy was quick and wise to beat her to it.

"_However_, I also would like to express that I have every right to _decline_ those said suggestions or conditions. If in the event that we simply_can_ _not_ agree, which I expect will happen _most_ of the time, a compromise would have to be achieved."

Hermione rolled her eyes at the overt solution. But did Malfoy even _know_ the meaning of compromise?

"_Compromise_ is such an overused term familiar to almost anyone." Draco paused, giving Hermione a meaningful glance as if he was capable of reading her thoughts. "But I believe for both of us, it is something we have to reiterate _repeatedly_ and work _painstakingly_ to achieve."

"And if a compromise can't be reached?" Hermione inquired defiantly.

"It will be, if need be." Draco replied confidently.

Hermione raised an eyebrow in incredulity. "How can you be so sure?"

Now it was Draco's turn to raise an eyebrow. "We're not at Hogwarts anymore Granger." His expression was serious, as if masking a greater deal of emotion. "We both have specific goals, _accountabilities_. This agreement would benefit us _both_. I don't see any reason as to why either of us would try to sabotage it."

Hermione clenched her jaw, hating how Malfoy's reply made her seem petty and childish. "We have _history_, Malfoy. Things like that can't be erased just because of a few _mutual_ goals. There will be instances wherein we won't be able to separate the past from the present."

Draco's expression was still serious, unreadable. "Then we'll deal with whatever it is when we get there."

Hermione smirked slightly. "I thought you were the ever-so-famous Slytherin _prince_? Prepared for any situation, any plot twist, any possible deviation. Dealing with a problem when it gets there doesn't seem to live up to that reputation."

Draco blinked. In that one instantaneous split second, he managed to mentally yell every curse word the whole Wizarding world ever knew. Opening his eyes, he forged a smirk. "My, my. The Gryffindor _princess_ is trying to edge me on?" He paused as he raised an amused eyebrow. "Why try to predict every single possible _insignificant_ scenario when all you really need to analyze is the main idea? I think you're simply projecting your _own_ obsessive compulsion to details towards me."

Hermione was about to counter back but Malfoy's expression suddenly turned deadly serious.

"Granger. You're obviously trying to get a reaction out of me. But I believe I won't be able to provide you that pleasure at this moment. I don't know _why_ you suddenly decided to hear my proposal out, but this is _not_ a laughing matter. Not for me. I have things at stake here, things I am _responsible_ for. Believe me, I wouldn't resort to something like this if I had better options."

Hermione's mouth fell open, annoyed that _Malfoy_ had actually lectured her about being mature. Swallowing down a scathing reply along with a bit of her pride, Hermione simply nodded her head stiffly. She hated to admit it, but she needed this agreement almost as much as he did.

"Now that the general terms are smoothed out, shall we proceed to the details? I'm sure they're what you're most _eager_ to know about." Draco was busy rummaging through an expensive looking black satchel.

Hermione bit her tongue. Now who was being biting and childish?

A stack of papers fell on the crystal table in front of her.

"That's the written contract. After the discussion, I would like for you to read the terms and conditions, then sign on the dotted line should you agree to them. I have to stress that I _can not_ allow you to take the contract elsewhere, as for reasons I'm sure you'll understand. A written document is strong evidence to implicate someone in court."

"If I wanted to oust you, I would have done it ages ago." Hermione replied, offended by Malfoy's precaution.

"I know. But I'm a skeptical man. Your words may have been held in the past, but I would need to reevaluate my opinion of you as I've had no further contact with you for years."

Hermione exhaled in slight annoyance before nodding her response.

"Now if I may? I would like to begin to relay to you the process of this… _business _partnership."

Hermione breathed deeply, as if preparing herself, before nodding her head in affirmation.

"The idea is _forbidden love_."

Hermione nearly lost her composure. If he didn't look so damn serious it would have been one hilarious scenario. Draco Malfoy talking about_love_? She didn't think he was even capable of loving someone more than himself, his reputation or his money. He was willing pretend to marry_her_ for Merlin's sake! What would he _not_ do for his riches and name?

"Have you ever wondered why people seem to be more curious about the Golden Trio _after_ the war?" Draco asked, something akin to genuine amusement was notable in his eyes.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, not quite sure of what Malfoy was implying. "It's the celebration period. I guess they're naturally curious about how we're all holding up now that the war was over."

Draco chuckled at Hermione's naïve reply as he shook his head.

"What?" Hermione asked pointedly, annoyed her theory was being mocked.

"People _like_ the distraction. They _crave_ the gossip. It gives them a sense of power to judge, to ridicule, to _berate._ The war left many of them incapacitated, penniless, utterly and purely _devastated_. Many lost people they care about. Some have no one _left_ to care about."

Hermione blinked. Was it just her or was Malfoy looking strangely pensive? It seemed like his passing statement affected him more than it should have.

As if Malfoy heard her thoughts, he immediately regained his composure. "So you see? Living in their very own lives is miserable enough. Having to deal with seemingly unending problems, berating themselves and their families for their loses, their world revolving only on the small four corners of their home, or rather, what's _left_ of it." He paused, giving Hermione a penetrating gaze. "Wouldn't a scandal of some revered war hero allow them temporary reprieve from their pathetic lives? Wouldn't that provide them a solitary moment of peace – that their lives aren't the only ones _fucked_ up? That even the respected, idolized war heroes can fall off their thrones just like any other living being?"

Hermione let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She wanted to slap him for bringing up such a delicate matter, but she couldn't deny the fact that he had just made her realize why everyone was so adamant about knowing every single stupid detail concerning her, Ron and Harry. Hermione shook her head. She never thought she'd live to see the day when she'd actually accept Malfoy as a person with _sense_.

"In conjunction, just like moths to a flame, people get attracted by the _forbidden_. What better way to catch their interest than to provide them with a forbidden predicament concerning two people who were at opposing sides during the war?" Malfoy added. His expression unreadable, his tone neutral.

Hermione remained silent. Draco regarded her lack of response as a cue to continue.

"But of course, simply slapping them with headlines out of the blue won't do both of us any good. Just as whiskey grows with age, we'll build their anticipation with the right amount of delayed gratification."

Hermione scrunched her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"I mean no publications, no dates in well-known places, no official interviews or claims of being together or involvement in any form of public announcement whatsoever."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "So how are people supposed to _anticipate_ something they don't know about?"

Draco chuckled slightly. "How else? The old fashioned way – through gossip by word of mouth."

Hermione looked at Draco as if he'd grown another head. "And just how long exactly, do you expect an ample amount of people to know about it through word of mouth alone?"

Draco chuckled again. "I'm surprised how much you berate the method. Haven't you met the Patil twins?"

Hermione frowned. Those twins could spread a rumor throughout Hogwarts in less than an hour. And by Hogwarts, Hermione meant _everypossible_ corner of the castle. "Given that word of mouth does spread rumors. Would people even believe it when no solid proof stands?"

"Granger, Granger, Granger." Malfoy's patronizing tone ran off. "You obviously _overestimate_ the intelligence of the average wizard and witch, the same way you _underestimate_ their desire for something incredulously _scandalous_. Rest assured if news about both of us spread, people_will_ flock over the issue."

"What makes you so sure?"

Draco gave Hermione a searching look. "I would love to answer that question. But to do so, I _may_ have to offend you."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. The thought of possibly being offended left her mind, leaving only the fact that Draco sodding _Malfoy_ actually had the decency to give her a heads up. "As long as you state it in words that fail to mock, then go ahead."

Draco nodded nonchalantly. _"You_ are Hermione Granger. You're a war hero, a possible idol for Muggle-born witches and wizards. The news about Weasley's _betrayal_ and your eventual break up have left a lot of people disappointed, more so sympathetic. People feel the need to cheer for you. To wish you'd find someone else, move on, be happy."

'_And you expect people to believe I'll find happiness with you?' _Hermione bit the inside of her cheek to shut her mouth.

"You are a symbol of change, of _hope_, for the Wizarding world. You're the epitome of the reason for fighting for equality. You are revered."

Hermione held her breath. Malfoy was just so full of compliments today. Could he even _hear_ himself?

"Enter." Draco was smirking now. "Draco Malfoy, pureblood elitist with an ancestry that instantaneously compels respect. I am the one true heir of my family's fortune, and one of the most eligible bachelors of this generation." Malfoy paused, a conceited smirk reached his lips.

Hermione groaned in annoyance as she rolled her eyes. Good old arrogant Malfoy was back.

"Every conquest I've ever had always seemed to make it to the front page of the entertainment section. As you probably know, I do not make it a point to hide whoever I am dating, nor do I see the need to keep them alongside me for prolonged periods."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at this. "If you're trying to sell yourself, you're not doing a very good job at it."

This statement made Draco laugh in a loud but mirthless manner. "Don't worry Granger, the day I sell myself to you would be the day I'd be in line for a kiss in Azkaban."

Hermione's mouth fell open slightly at the insult. She hadn't meant he was trying to sell himself to _her_, she was talking about the general public! Hermione scoffed in annoyance before smirking back at Malfoy. "Well then, you've just proven it's possible."

Draco frowned lividly at the jab. His gaze became heavy and punishing. A long tense stare off occurred and neither one wanted to give up.

Hermione could feel her pulse quicken. What she said was unwarranted but she just couldn't help but want to get the better of him. She refused to back down from any challenge he presented, and she sure as hell wouldn't allow him to insult her and get away with it.

A few seconds later, Draco broke eye contact as he cursed himself, annoyed that he allowed her statement to affect him enough to break character. As if the insult was never made, Draco looked at Hermione with his calm exterior back in place.

"Given those information, what do you think the public would think if word of mouth were to spread that we were seeing each other in secret?"

Hermione opened her mouth to answer but it seems Draco wasn't at all interested at anything she had to say. He simply continued to talk as if she were nonexistent.

"People would have different reactions. Some aghast, some surprised, some in disbelief, but I am willing to bet a portion would be _supportive_as well. People will start to analyze about the need for secrecy and they'll inevitably believe that the affair is more true than false."

"Secrecy doesn't equate to sincerity, Malfoy." Hermione argued. "If a relationship was genuine, there would be no need to hide it."

Malfoy chuckled at this. That was such a Gryffindor thing to say. The same way it was such a foolhardy thing to believe in. "So you believe that the two of us just coming out in the open, screaming saccharine proses of eternal _love_, would convince people better?"

Hermione blushed in embarrassment and anger. "What I'm merely stating is that if something was genuine, there would be no necessity for hiding, no need for _shame."_

"Yes. Of course. That would be the case if I were _Weasley."_ Draco replied sarcastically. His gaze serious but irritated.

"Don't you _dare_." Hermione's silent but livid tone was slightly shaking. "Don't you _even_ dare."

Malfoy raised both hands up indifferently. "I simply stated what needed to be stated. I am _not_ someone you can be with and be accepted without the need for explanation. The same is true with me." His arms came down to the chair's arm rests.

"We were enemies. As you stated, we had _history_ in Hogwarts. Do you honestly believe people would just buy our crap if we suddenly come out and say we've seen things differently?"

Hermione remained quiet but she didn't miss Malfoy's use of the past tense.

"Not a single soul in our year at Hogwarts would believe it, let alone Potter and Weasley. We don't need _honesty._ If that was our intention then why have this meeting at all? We need a _plan._ And a clever one at that. Remember Granger, we need to deceive people who have been_closest_ to us. How else do we achieve it? The only way is through ample manipulation."

Draco could feel Hermione's growing need for an argument but he stilled her with one hand.

"I know your principles do not agree with my methods. But I assure you, it is the best one we can use. Unless you have a better, more effective way of doing this?"

Hermione looked at Malfoy hard for a few moments before letting out a tired sigh. _"Fine._ So we go out for a few dates inconspicuously, then what?"

Malfoy fought a grin. "Then we get people all riled up. Before we know it, reporters will be on our asses for one big scoop."

Hermione nodded. "That much is inevitable. Then we give an official interview or something?"

Draco chuckled at this. "I am _personally_ aghast at your lack of imagination."

Hermione felt her blood boil once more. Just when they were starting to actually converse normally!

"Can you _honestly_ see the two of us sitting down in an interview to talk about how we '_fell in love_'?" Draco asked in disbelief and amusement. "Tell me, would Potter and Weasley buy it?"

Hermione frowned. Damn idiot had a point. "Then what in the _bloody_ _hell_ do you suggest we do?"

"Deny any interview of course!" Draco stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"So you're saying we'll just continue as is?" Hermione was incredulous. "Going out secretly? That's still where we're at?"

"Not _still_." Draco corrected. "At one point in time, people will intervene."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean? Who will intervene?"

"Who do you think?" Came Malfoy's challenging tone.

"Your mother?"

An irritated scoff paired with rolling eyes was all Hermine received as a reply.

Narrowing her eyes, Hermione looked at Malfoy uncertain and incredulous. "You don't mean..."

Draco raised his eyebrows as a cue to continue.

"Ron and Harry?"

Draco nodded merrily. "Finally, you get _one_ thing right."

Brushing aside the insult, Hermione scoffed in annoyance. "How can you be so sure they'll react?" She paused for a moment, debating if the next information was necessary. "I…" She began, slightly unsure. "I haven't exactly been…" She paused again before exhaling in annoyance. "We're no longer close Malfoy. I see them a few times in common work events but other than that, nothing."

Draco simply looked at Hermione for a few seconds, searching, contemplating. Then he smirked. "Oh they will. I'm _sure_ they will."

Hermione opened her mouth to retort but Draco was quick to cut her off.

"Granger, you _know_ they will."

Hermione felt herself shiver slightly under his intense gaze. She hated how he looked at her. It was like he knew something about her. It irked her to the core but she wouldn't dare to ask him about it. Asking him would mean that there really _was_ something she was hiding. And if there was one thing she knew about Draco Malfoy, it was that he was more than capable of manipulating people given even the slightest bit of information.

Clearing her throat, Hermione tried to change the conversation. "So after they react, what happens then?"

The effort to deviate from the topic was not lost to Draco, but he welcomed the change. "Don't know."

Hermione blinked. "I-I beg your pardon?"

"I _don't_ know." Malfoy repeated. "The next move would have to be made based on their response."

Hermione's mouth fell open. "So you mean to say we'll be making this up as we go?!"

Draco was itching to correct her 'we' into 'I' but he decided otherwise. "Potter and Weasley are very… _fickle_. I've planned out a couple of scenarios but I have no possible basis for ensuring which one of them or if _any_ of them will occur at all."

"So. You have _no_ plan?" Hermione summarized.

"I _do_ have a plan." Draco replied in annoyance. "But they are tentative therefore they can be subjected to change. Like I said, why plan for every insignificant detail when all we need is the main picture?"

"But Harry and Ron _is_ part of the main picture!" Hermione argued.

"Then what do you suppose we do, hm, Granger? Can you tell me how they're going to respond? What will their _exact_ words be? Will they march through my temporary abode and hex me? Will they be waiting out in some dark alley to corner me? Will they be approaching me in broad daylight as I walk around the ministry? Will they drag me to some abandoned building when they spot me shopping in Diagon Alley? Will they set up a meeting with me?" He paused. "Okay that last one is _impossible_. But as you can see, there are _so_ many potential scenarios. Too many to even narrow down. So if you have the solution, please enlighten me."

Hermione was silent, annoyed that Malfoy was right _again_. She hated to admit it but he's thought about things well. _Too_ well, in fact.

"Also, depending on what Potter and Weasley do, we'll have to factor in your response as well."

Hermione didn't conceal her surprise. She was so focused on the details that she forgot she would also have to play a big part in all of it. Malfoy was right. How _would_ she face both of them?

"So as you can see, I've only planned this out as far as possible. At least, as far as accuracy is concerned. But rest assured that the result of this would remain the same, regardless of whatever happens."

"And what would that be?" Hermione asked, her gaze unreadable.

"Pardon?"

"What would the result be?"

Malfoy smirked, with a hint of something hidden that Hermione was unable to comprehend. "I get back what is rightfully mine. And you get what you've come here for."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "And what exactly have I come here for?"

Draco smirked as he finally allowed himself another shot of fire whiskey. Feeling the burning fluid course down his throat, he gave Hermione a knowing gaze. "Revenge."

* * *

><p>End of chapter nine! Thank you for reading. I would very much appreciate a <strong>review<strong>! I would love to hear your feedback about how the story is turning out so far.


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